


Unexpected

by GingerEl



Series: Ink and Feather [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Flirting, Getting Together, Glove Kink, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Minor Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Switching, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEl/pseuds/GingerEl
Summary: Ignis stands straight backed outside the Marshal’s office, folder clutched tightly in his hands.“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nyx asks, standing as close as he can without triggering Ignis’ dislike of PDA. Ignis loves him for it - like he loves how Nyx stayed up late with him when this had been boiling restlessly inside him, how he was his trusted confidant in this and everything else.But of course Ignis is sure. He’d been happy when Prompto had told him the truth of his past, glad his friend finally trusted him with this information he finds so painful.There was just one thing.The information Prompto has doesn’t seem to line up with what Ignis already knows.Ignis gives Nyx a nod and receives a bracing, encouraging smile in return. Squaring his shoulders just a touch more he steps forward to knock, waiting patiently to be called inside.“Ignis,” Cor says in surprise, “What can I do for you?”“If I may be so bold, sir, I’d quite like the truth.”Alternatively: “How did you know you were in love with Nyx?” Prompto asks all in one breath.
Relationships: Ignis Scientia/Nyx Ulric, Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia
Series: Ink and Feather [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661995
Comments: 56
Kudos: 66





	1. Nerve

**Author's Note:**

> I promised I would write the IgNyx for this universe and I have had the BEST time doing so. These two are so fun and I can't wait to share the rest of this with you. Updating on Sundays💛 This is MUCH shorter than it's counterparts though. I think three parts, but it might be four. 
> 
> Forever unsure how to denote flashbacks so ~ ~ ~ is it but also it’ll be pretty obvious.  
> I aged Nyx down a little from canon, it just made the story telling a little easier.

Ignis has it in his mind to make fresh pasta for dinner tonight. There’s nothing _wrong_ with dried pasta and Ignis uses it all the time but there’s something pleasantly indulgent about fresh, hand rolled pasta.

Also, he thinks Prompto might enjoy helping, the simple methodical process might helps ease some of the frown from his forehead.

Of course, as soon as he sets the bowl on Noct’s electric scale to weigh out the flour his phone buzzes angrily in his pocket, a continuous rhythm that lets him know it’s a call and not a text. Prompto and Noctis are studying at the breakfast bar for an upcoming test and he simply waves his phone at them as he passes on the way to Noctis' mostly unused office.

“ _Good evening, Ignis_ ,” King Regis’ voice greets him when he presses the phone to his ear.

“Your Majesty.” Ignis says, “Is everything alright -”

“ _I’m afraid I need Noctis here this evening for this meeting ahead of the big one on Thursday_.”

“Of course,” Ignis says, “I’ll bring him at once.”

“ _I’ve sent Ulric to come and collect him, he’s already on his way over_ ,” Regis explains.

“Sire?”

It _sounds_ like Ignis isn’t invited, that Regis is _purposefully_ excluding him.

Ignis doesn’t have much in the way of family, he and his uncle could never be described as _close_ \- the man had purposefully chosen to _not_ have children so the guardianship of six year old Ignis could have come as nothing as a surprise to him. And certainly not a good one. Ignis holds no particular ill-will towards him he supposes. Not anymore. They exchange birthday cards and periodically have dinner together and Ignis finds its enough for him now. Certainly his uncle is more fond of Ignis now he is an adult than when he was a child.

His _parents_ bear no mention at all.

Ignis has _always_ had Noctis though, getting Gladio soon after and Nyx _much_ after that. He had never anticipated another person could incite such strong attachment in him, but then he had never anticipated that someone as kind and endearing as Prompto could exist.

Ignis would include Regis in his list of familial attachments, if he thought he had any right to do so. Instead he will just fondly remember the times as a child when Regis would carefully include him in his time with Noctis. When he’d ask Ignis to join them on the rare night where he had time to read Noctis a bedtime story, his easy demeanour with Ignis when the two of them would play in his office while the King worked at his desk.

“I’d be thrilled to have you here Ignis,” Regis says, “Some sensible ideas in the face of what is sure to be utter madness.”

“But?”

“ _But_. Some of the council members have been saying less than kind things about my son. About his work ethic. And the idea that he’s ‘hiding behind Scientia’s skirt tails.’”

Because attending a half dozen meetings a week, training with Gladio three times _and_ keeping up a full time college education makes a person _lazy_ nowadays. Noctis is often in awe of how much Prompto packs into a single week and while it certainly is impressive - alarming sometimes - Noctis isn’t spending most of his time sat on his backside wither.

“Ah,” Ignis says, “I understand, I’ll make sure he’s dressed and ready to go as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Ignis,” Regis sighs, “And I’ll make sure your uncle forwards you the minutes, so you’re not out of the loop.”

“I appreciate it, sire.”

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, I’ll try not to keep Noctis more than an hour.”

Ignis bids him a farewell and then breathes deeply, squaring his shoulders before stepping back into the main part of the apartment. Noctis is going to be _not happy_ about this.

“Noctis,” Ignis calls, tone more severe than he had been intending. The snacks he had prepared for them are mostly gone now, Prompto has a few carrot sticks left on a plate, hummus reserves run dry.

The boys both turn to look at him, one dark haired and one light, eyes curious and _slightly_ guarded.

“I’m sorry,” Ignis says outright, so Noct knows this is not what he wishes, “But Nyx is coming to take you to the Citadel.”

“What? Why?” Noct says, bows creased immediately in a deep frown.

“Your father called, you need to attend the preparatory meeting for the Four Nations Summit they just ordered,” Ignis explains, hoping by explaining _exactly_ what it is Noctis will understand why this is so important. Maybe he’ll be less upset.

Noct makes an obvious noise of disgust but slides down of his stool anyway. He takes two steps and then freezes, looking uncertainly up at Ignis.

“You’re not coming with me?” Noct asks softly.

“Your father wants you to attend by yourself,” Ignis says in a similar tone, shaking his head a little, “To be seen _standing_ by yourself.”

Noct huffs and rolls his eyes. Darkly he mutters, “Which means a council member must have called my lazy. Or spoiled. Again.”

Ignis senses the disappointment, the falling self worth, wash over Noctis like an unwelcome blanket.

“They don’t truly know you Noctis, please do not be disheartened,” Ignis hastens to explain. Noct offers him _something_ like a smile.

Bizarrely Prompto starts to pack up his things.

“What are you doing?” Noct asks him before Ignis can get the words out.

Prompto peers uncertainly up at him, “Well I figured if you were leaving your apartment it was time for me to leave it too.”

Noct punches his best friend gently on the shoulder and Ignis is, as always, so pleased to see him acting so effortlessly tactile and affectionate with someone else.

“You’re so weird,” Noct teases as he heads off towards his bedroom.

Prompto sinks back into his stool and Ignis hadn’t even realised that he’d risen slightly.

“Noctis won’t be long,” Ignis assures him, offering in turn, “I rather thought you might stay and I could teach you how to make pasta. From scratch.”

Prompto’s eyes brighten but he stutters a little as he says, “I - you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Ignis can’t help but laugh a little. Prompto is always so eager but unsure, even after all the time they’ve spent together. Like a part of him thinks that Ignis only puts up with him for Noctis and Gladio’s sakes, like Ignis isn’t firmly in his corner now and always.

Inevitable, Ignis supposes, after the upbringing he had. The complete lack of familial support he’s received for his entire life. Ignis can’t come out and say this though, he can’t explain to Prompto that he wants to fill that hole in his life, be the brother he never had and care for him as surely as someone of his own _blood_. The need to explain it is only founded in the knowledge of Prompto’s upbringing, a secret that Prompto guards closely to his chest, that he doesn’t reveal for fear of -

Of _something_.

Ignis had been there the day Noctis had found out, almost by accident, and easily identified Noct’s digging to know _if_ Ignis knew a short time later. He’d been relieved to know when he first found out, the way he’s _always_ pleased to get new information that could be useful one day. But as he’d gotten to know Prompto, started to learn what type of person he was and realise that he was, in fact, going to be around for a long time Ignis had started to feel _guilty_.

Ignis _shouldn’t_ know, because Prompto clearly doesn’t want him to and there’s nothing Ignis can do to patch over this grievance between them. Even if Prompto doesn’t know it exists.

“Of course not,” Ignis reassures him instead.

“Do I need to wear my raiment or -?” Noct yells from his bedroom and Prompto smiles, shaking his head a little before flipping his textbook back open.

“Just a suit is fine. Something fairly plain will do,” Ignis calls back though he hates shouting in general. The urge to go in and _help_ is there but if he can trust Noctis to handle this meeting without him - and he truly _does_ \- then he can trust him to pick out a suit by himself too.

The door to Noct’s apartment opens and then closes. Gladio’s busy for another few hours so it can only be -

“Hey guys,” Nyx calls out to them.

The moment he’s in view Ignis feels some previously unrealised tension melt off his shoulder.

“Hello Darling,” Ignis says, “Noct won’t be ready for a few minutes yet, I’m afraid.”

“Damn,” Nyx says with that exquisite teasing grin of his, “Guess I’ll just have to spend some time with you while we wait.”

“Charmer,” Ignis chides but not really meaning it.

Ignis shakes some of his unease off, or _tries to_ anyway, and heads back into the kitchen, returning to the electric scale to weigh out the flour again. Nyx follows, close on his heels in a way that would be annoying if it were anyone else. They _live_ together and yet sometimes it feels like they go days and days without spending any actual time together.

Damn Nyx and his ability to pull night shifts like no other Glaive.

“How’s my Igs, huh?” Nyx asks, voice dropped low.

“Quite well, love, thank you.”

Ignis spoons some flour across and Nyx puts his hand on the small of his back. His palm is warm and grounding, even through the pressed fabric of Ignis’ dress shirt.

“Not worried about Noct?” Nyx presses.

Ignis allows himself the extra comfort of stepping closer to Nyx, not pushing him away when the Glaive hooks his chin over Ignis’ shoulder so he can all but whisper and still be heard. Ignis doesn’t need to push him away, to press for privacy, not here in the safety of Noct’s apartment with only Prompto as witness.

Ignis sighs, “Of course I am - not because of _Noctis_ but because of those _vultures_ on the council. He could be _perfect_ and they’d still complain.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the crotchety old ass-holes for you, yeah -”

Nyx probably had more to say but the comment startles a laugh out of Ignis, loud and unexpected and Ignis feels his face warm just a little, raising one hand to cover his mouth and stifle further chuckles. Nyx grins at his side, a touch more dopey than his guarded _Hero_ persona usually allows. When Ignis turns to cross back over to be closer to Prompto with the flour and eggs in hand Nyx wraps one of his fingers through Ignis' belt loop so he can trail closely behind.

Prompto keeps his eyes on his textbook, almost like he’s pointedly _not_ watching them.

Bless him.

“Stay for dinner when you bring Noct back,” Ignis suggests and Nyx nods immediately.

“Mhm, whatever you want,” Nyx agrees eagerly.

Sometimes Nyx is stubborn and obstinate, frustrating to the extreme that Ignis wants to promise he’ll never speak to him again and swear that he’s not at all attached to him in anyway. But sometimes - and honestly even _those_ times too - Nyx is sweet and endearing, _just_ enough to pull Ignis from his thoughts and his inescapable drive to work, work, work and get him to focus on other things. Better things.

Nyx always knows what he needs; soft words and gentle touches to ease him out of himself sure, but also the times he needs Nyx to toss him back on the bed and order him out of his clothes or onto his knees. He knows when Ignis needs it the other way too, permission to wrap his fingers into Nyx’s hair and bend him to his will.

Ignis smirks now, wondering what kind of _mood_ Nyx has himself in now to be acting such a way.

Noct steps out of his bedroom and Ignis tenses on reflex, feels Nyx step closer to press more of his warmth against his side. Ignis _tries_ to relax a little for him.

Ignis _wants_ to be there for Noct this evening. He wants to continue helping him through this, to ease the already excessive burden resting on his shoulders. Nyx runs his hand across Ignis’ shoulders and Ignis makes himself exhale, push some of his anxieties away from him.

“Lets get this over with,” Noct says and Prompto finally looks up from his book to look over at his friend.

Noct turns to face Ignis, tilting his head a little he asks, “Will I do?”

He looks _very_ well put together, three piece black suit over dark grey shirt with a matching tie _and_ pocket square in the same shade but shot through with silvery thread.

Fondly Ignis laughs and assures his prince, “More than.”

Noct smiles and turns to Prompto, demanding, “Be here when I get back.”

Prompto offers Noct his _goofiest_ salute and something about it warms Ignis’ heart.

Noct turns to leave, to head out _without_ him and suddenly Ignis _has_ to do something, to _say_ something.

“Don’t let them bully you,” Ignis all but blurts, “You’ve read all the reports, you know what’s happening, I know you have opinions and they’re strong and valid -”

“ _Iggy_ ,” Noct interrupts firmly, “I got it, okay. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

As Noct turns towards the door again Ignis puffs out another breath.

“Hey,” Nyx whispers, “You’re amazing at your job. He’s gonna do great.”

Ignis breathes a little easier. Yes, yes Ignis _is_ good at his job and Noctis is well prepared. Ignis made sure of it.

“Yes. Thank you, dear,” Ignis says making Nyx _smile_ once more, popping forward to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“One more thing,” Nyx adds.

“Hmm?” Ignis murmurs, wondering what Nyx could possibly need before he goes.

“I love you,” Nyx says.

The last bit of tension sloughs right off Ignis’ shoulders, leaving him oddly boneless and vulnerable. Nyx doesn’t _say_ it much, _they_ don’t say it much and hearing it always undermines Ignis’ careful control. In the very best of ways.

“I love you too,” Ignis tells him and reaches to place his fingers against Nyx’s jaw to tug him forward. Before their lips connect Ignis playfully glances at Prompto and the blond, who hadn’t _really_ been staring anyway, giggles with a blush and pointedly turns all the way around in his seat.

Ignis kisses Nyx gently, a slow press of lips and the softest tease of his tongue. Nyx parts his lips just a little and Ignis takes the opportunity to press his teeth into the roundness of his bottom lip. They pull apart, Nyx’s eyes blazing with intensity - a promise for _later._

Nyx pulls all the way away, gifting Ignis a wink and a smile as he turns to leave.

“See you later, Blondie,” Nyx calls.

“Bye!” Prompto says brightly, spinning back around with a smile.

“Thank you for your forbearance,” Ignis teases him, checking over his assembled ingredients before stepping up to the sink to wash his hands.

Prompto doesn’t immediately jump up to do the same, his eagerness to help with dinner not immediately present like normal. Ignis wonders if he’s even _more_ worried about his biology class than he'd let on earlier. Prompto’s so very smart and it’s awful that his education may have this blemish on it simply because Insomnia University likes it’s students to undertake such broad prerequisites.

Prompto achieving his bachelor of arts and all the advantages that comes with it should not be dependent on his passing a biology exam.

“Are you quite alright?” Ignis asks with concern, “I can try and pull together some different material to explain it in a different way -”

“How did you know you were in love with Nyx?” Prompto asks all in one breath.

The question is a surprise to be sure, one that Ignis had never _really_ thought about before. He’d just _known_. He remembers being surprised about it at the time. How he’d been missing Nyx after a string of work related absences and terribly aligned schedules -

“Well, that’s rather complicated,” Ignis offers.

“It is?” Prompto says and the poor thing sounds so _relieved_ that Ignis isn't an expert here.

Prompto’s looking up him with his eyes wide and concerned, biting into his bottom lip like he does when something's really bothering him.

This isn’t something Ignis just has an _answer_ for but perhaps, together, he and Prompto can try and work through the blond’s feelings for Gladio. Though Ignis rather thinks those are clear.

Ignis pushes the bowl to one side and rests his hip against counter to lean more comfortably. Dinner can wait a while.

“For me,” Ignis starts, “The realisation that I missed him came hand in hand with the one that I’d fallen rather hopelessly in love with the reckless fool.”

It’s not _quite_ right, it’s not _everything_ but right now Prompto doesn’t need to _know_ everything.

_~ ~ ~_

Ignis’ daggers _thunk thunk thunk_ into the training dummy half a room away.

It’s boring but necessary work. If he doesn’t keep it up he might get _rusty_ and Ignis will not abide being anything but his _absolute_ best when it comes to his duties.

Not that he’s had cause to fight _much_ of course. That’s much more Gladio’s role but Ignis wants to be prepared, to be _helpful_ if there's ever a time Noct's protection requires an extra pair of hands, an extra _body_ to keep Noctis from harm.

Ignis crosses the room, tugs the diggers free and checks the surface of the dummy. Still serviceable. He walks back to his original spot, takes two further strides away and starts again.

The first one sticks with the same satisfying _thunk_ and the second follows close behind. Ignis lines up the third -

A _different_ dagger flies through the air and knocks his second off target. Both weapons clatter noisily onto ground and skidding off towards the wall. Ignis lowers his hand and the last of his daggers with it.

Because _that_ leaning against the wall with a stupid, handsome smirk on his face is Nyx Ulric - Hero of the Citadel. Ignis hasn’t ever spoken to him but he knows who he is of course. Nyx is their most celebrated Glaive after all.

Ulric is either adored or simply tolerated by everyone who speaks of him and Ignis doesn’t yet have enough of an opinion about him to be anything other than the latter.

Ignis stares at him, raising an eyebrow challengingly. If Nyx wants to test his skills Ignis is more than up for the challenge. Nyx might have years and experience on him but Ignis has blind determination and intense, single minded focus on his side.

 _Annoyingly_ Ulric’s smirk spreads into a full grin, eyes crinkling charmingly at the corners. Rather than approach Ignis however he simply straightens from here he’s been resting against the wall for _Astrals_ knows how long and drops Ignis a wink before turning and walking towards the exit whistling an upbeat tune.

 _Whistling_.

Ignis stares at the door as it swings closed behind him, a weird buzzing behind his eyes he can’t explain.

He’s _still_ never spoken to Nyx Ulric in his life but Ignis thinks he might be the most infuriating man he's has ever met.

\- - -

After that Ignis starts seeing Nyx everywhere.

It’s not that he thinks Nyx is _actually_ around any more than he was before, it’s just that strange phenomenon where suddenly becoming _aware_ of something means you notice it more than when it was not at your attention. Like the time Gladio had complained that yellow cars seemed to be getting more popular and Ignis would _swear_ that every non-crown issued car he saw for the next month was _yellow_ even though there’s no way that could possibly true.

Nyx is never never even _doing_ anything. Just guarding and entrance or a meeting room, and maybe he used to smile at Ignis before and he just didn’t notice but now Ignis _is_ noticing and it’s not a smile at all but a _smirk_. A stupid grin that pulls up one side of his mouth and makes _something_ glitter in his blue eyes.

Ignis _dislikes_ him so intently it makes his belly turn over but for some reason he still prefers it when he’s there over almost any other guard.

\- - -

Ignis, by the elevation of his status as Noct’s right hand man, gets to be a member of the Crownsguard without having to attend any of the mandatory group training exercises that occur throughout the week. As long as he continues to pass the periodic checks that occur Ignis is good to go, good to wear his personalised jacket with pride and confidence.

It’s Gladio that convinces him to come to a few, that talks him around to the idea of joining the morning run a couple times a week and coming down for hand to hand when he can manage and give the fresher recruits _something different to knock them on their asses_.

To his complete surprise Ignis finds he _likes_ it. Likes the few miles running in the morning, like testing the mettle of the men that will one day protect his king. It’s something in his schedule to look forward to other than testing a new kind of pastry or the few hours he sets aside every so often to make his own jam.

Ignis is _fast_ of course, he’s got long legs and a gymnast's grace so naturally he ‘wins’ a lot of the morning running routines, out pacing all but the hardiest of Crownsguard recruits. Ignis prefers not to use music for pacing. He enjoys listening to the distant noise of the city and the pounding of his own feet cut by the patter of shoes on his tail.

Then one morning he hears -

“On your left.”

And all but _sprinting_ past him goes Nyx Ulric, dressed in loose shorts and a tight tank, managing despite working at what _must_ be his maximum effort to shoot Ignis a smirk over his shoulder.

It makes Ignis loose his rhythm but not his footing, thank the Gods, and Nyx is too far away for Ignis to stand any chance of catching once he recovers. There's no way of beating Nyx at his own game now, not without making it _look_ like Ignis wants to anyway.

Ignis seethes for the rest of his run and when Ulric starts turning up at every Friday session Ignis attends and racing past him in the last third _every time_ he seethes some more.

It bothers Ignis more than it should, the image of that smirk seared into his brain and suddenly coming back to him whenever his brain doesn’t have something else all encompassing to focus on.

\- - -

Ignis is stubborn. He’s the first one to admit it, but also the first to acknowledge that he’s not really willing to work on it. Sometimes it serves him well.

That being said, the smart sensible thing to do would be for Ignis to carry this stack of folders upstairs in two trips, his hold on the tower of documents tenuous at best. But that would take extra _time_ and if there’s one thing in his life that Ignis is perpetually short of it’s _time_.

He walks carefully, balancing the folders and papers in his arms, ignoring the slightly _indulgent_ smiles some of the Citadel staff shoot him like he’s simply a mischievous child doing something perhaps they shouldn’t. Of course those that don’t look at him as an errant child ignore him completely, one moving into his path enough that he clips Ignis’ arm as he passes and -

It’s a shower of paperwork cascading onto the ground in a mess that already has a headache forming behind Ignis’ right eye. The employee doesn’t stop to help of, Ignis isn’t sure he even glances back at the chaos he just wrought. Ignis sinks to his knees to begin gathering it all in to one place, not paying attention to the footsteps that approach, the sharp _click_ of boots across the stone floor.

“Let me help,” says a voice and Ignis looks up just as _Nyx Ulric_ is lowering himself to the floor in front of him, hands gathering the spilt papers closest to him.

“I can manage,” Ignis says shortly.

“I know,” Ulric says, “But -”

“I can _manage_ ,” Ignis reiterates, all but snatching two folders from between Nyx’s fingers.

“Look, Scientia -”

“It’s nothing,” Ignis rushes on, “You have work to be getting on with.”

Ignis is _embarrassed_. There’s no other word for it. For him to be discovered in such a state, surrounded by the evidence of his own hubris is bad enough but that it’s _him_ , Nyx, makes it all the worse.

Nyx says no more but gathers up the last few scattered papers. When Ignis reaches for them he snatches them back, holding them close to his chest as he stands up. Nyx holds out his hand to help Ignis up but when Ignis doesn’t immediately take it he draws it back in.

Ignis pushes up to his feet, shifting his bundle so it’s precariously balanced in on arm and holds his hand out for the rest of them.

“Thank you,” Ignis says stiffly.

“I can carry half,” Nyx says, “You need the help.”

Ignis bristles, he doesn’t _need_ anything, not from anyone and he especially doesn’t need help from one arrogant Glaive. He steps forward and snatches the paperwork away from Nyx, adding it to his pile and clutching it tight as he stalks away.

“Ignis,” Nyx calls after him, but Ignis does not turn around.

\- - -

Ignis is halfway through his poached eggs when, almost entirely out of the blue, Gladio says, “You know it’s because he likes you.”

The toast in his mouth suddenly feels a little dry so Ignis takes a sip of coffee in lieu of responding. When Gladio only stares at him Ignis sighs.

“Who?”

“Nyx,” Gladio says simply, “He just wants your attention.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Ignis mutters.

Ulric is - he’s -

He’s older and well liked, charming and capable. He’s everything that Ignis strives to be and sometimes falls short of, all wrapped up in a tight little package topped off with that _damn_ smirk.

Gladio laughs, “You _like_ him.”

“I do not,” Ignis snaps.

“Okay. You think he’s hot at least.”

Ignis opens his mouth and then closes it again. He takes another sip of his coffee and turns back to his eggs before they get cold.

Gladio sends him a smug grin over the table and Ignis kicks him in the shins underneath it.

\- - -

It’s late.

Not so late that it’s inappropriate for him to be here but late enough that almost no one else is in this part of the training halls.

The gymnastic equipment is underused anyway, favoured mostly by the Glaive with most of the Crownsguard rating brute force over flexibility. Ignis likes the solitary though, likes to play some music on his phone and surrender to the satisfaction he feels after completing his routine twice over. Thrice, if it’s been a particularly tough week and he has the time.

Ignis sighs as he approaches the hall, a slither of light leaking out through the window in the door, and wonders just _how_ long the light has been unnecessarily on. He pushes open the door and _freezes_.

The room is _not_ empty.

Nyx Ulric stands between the parallel bars, rotating his shoulders. He’s dressed in those shorts again but this time paired with a light grey t-shirt, damp with perspiration and clinging delightfully to the definition that would normally be hidden beneath it. Nyx bounces on his feet twice and then seems to reconsider, reaching for the hem of his shirt and peeling it up his body, exposing the lean mass of him to Ignis’ admittedly hungry eyes. He’s bulkier than Ignis for sure, though not reaching Gladio’s mass by some margin. He looks powerful but lithe, the perfect balance of both speed and strength.

Nyx uses the bundled up shirt to wipe across the back of his neck and Ignis feels a low lurch in his belly when he realises he’d quite like to press his mouth right up against that skin.

 _Oh_.

Nyx bounces again, placing one hand on each of the parallel bars and slowly, with nary a wobble in his arms, he pushes himself off the ground, legs extending behind him until they’re up level with the bars and then higher, swinging up over him until he’s perfect, straight line from his hands to the tip of his toes. Ignis sinks back a little, letting the door half close silently so he doesn’t disturb the Glaive and watching with keen interest as he holds the position for seconds that seems to stretch eternally onward until he’s parting his legs, wide into a full split that has Ignis swallowing on reflex.

Ignis’ eyes catch on the metal bars through Nyx's nipples and Ignis has to force his eyes away from them or risk his own interest in the situation becoming plainly visible.

Nyx pulls his legs closed and then gradually lowers himself back down.

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there all night?” Nyx says.

Ignis’ face _burns_.

Nyx sighs, “I won’t even talk to you if you don’t want,” he says, “You can put your music on like normal and pretend I’m not even here.”

Ignis steps into the room properly, the door swinging shut silently behind him.

“How do you know about my music?” Ignis asks. He _should_ apologise for staring before but somehow he can tell Nyx wouldn’t want to hear it.

“I do a lot of evening patrols and guards,” Nyx tells him.

“Yes.”

Ignis knew that.

Ignis walks over to the pommel, setting his things - towel, phone and water bottle - down beside it. He keeps his back to Nyx as he starts his stretches, warming up slowly and carefully before he starts his routine. Ignis doesn’t put his music on because that feels _rude_ somehow even though it would help drown out the feeling of Nyx’s eyes burrowing into him.

Ignis puts his palms flat against the end of the pommel and pushes up, far enough from the floor that he can travel across the equipment. His legs swing back and forth over it as he makes the journey, muscles in his arms burning pleasantly as he reaches the other end. Ignis is almost _painfully_ aware of Nyx watching him as he does so, pleased that at least in _this_ he _knows_ he excels.

Ignis lands carefully at the other end, dismounting perfectly with little flourish. It would not do to give into his desire to show off.

“If you keep your hips more parallel you’ll have an easier time,” Nyx says.

Ignis balks, hackles up that he is _once again_ seemingly bettered by this man.

“I think you’ll find that I’m already better than my peers thank you very much,” Ignis says without turning around.

“For sure,” Nyx says, “Best in the citadel. But do you want to better than them or better than _you_.”

Ignis turns to look at him then and Nyx's face is neutral, eyes sure and unbothered as Ignis' half glare.

Ignis doesn’t care so much about besting everyone else, though he _would_ like to out pace Nyx _one_ Friday morning. What he cares about it relentlessly improving _himself_.

“Very well,” Ignis says.

Nyx grins, some of his usual cockiness missing and he pats the end of the pommel expectantly. Ignis presses his palms flat against it and when Nyx places his hands on Ignis’ hips to show him the proper way to support himself Ignis manages to keep the desire to squirm further into his hold trapped firmly inside his own head.

\- - -

“No, Gladio.”

“ _Yes_ , _Iggy_ ,” Gladio rebuts over the phone.

It’s a Saturday night, the first Saturday night they’ve _both_ had off in some time. Ignis hadn’t exactly had plans in mind but it was supposed to be something relaxing and going with Gladio to some bar on the other side of the city had the potential to be the complete opposite.

Ignis sighs.

“ _I’ll drive_ ,” Gladio offers.

“Give me a little time to change clothes.”

“ _I’ll be there in fifteen,_ ” Gladio promises before hanging up.

Ignis swaps his work attire for fitted jeans and his favourite purple shirt, tucking it in carefully and then spending just a little time making sure his hair is still presentable. Perhaps if the bar isn’t _too_ rowdy Ignis might even enjoy himself. Perhaps he stands more of a chance if they serve anything but cheap beer - with Gladio driving it might be _nice_ to indulge in a large glass of red wine.

Gladio doesn’t come to his door, it would make no sense for him to walk up all those stairs so he simply sends a shot _I’m here_ text to let Ignis know he’s arrived.

“Don’t you look handsome,” Gladio says the moment Ignis slides into the passenger seat.

“I see you’ve decided to wear clothes. I applaud this forward thinking new fashion choice,” Ignis teases.

Gladio laughs and restarts his engine, pulling out into the first gap in the evening traffic.

“Where are we going?” Ignis asks.

“Some of the Glaive recommended the place to me,” Gladio says. Ignis squints at him in the light of the passing street lights but can’t detect any hint of a lie in his expression.

“Hmm.”

“They said it’s cosy. Quiet but not dull,” Gladio explains.

“ _Hmm_.”

“Also they import that wine you like - the one from Tenebrae. I checked.”

“Excellent,” Ignis sighs, “You can buy me the largest glass they serve.”

Gladio shakes his head a little, “You got it.”

When they arrive the music is pleasant but unfamiliar and from everything Ignis’ eyes - and nose - can detect it _seems_ clean enough.

There are even some familiar faces, Glaives that Ignis knows by sight if not name. They perk up at Gladio’s entrance, ever the socialite, offering him waves and boisterous greetings. Gladio simply waves back, refusing when they try to beckon him over, instead taking Ignis to a small round table with a view out of the window onto the street.

Gladio gets served quickly, as always, and returns with the promised glass of wine and a small tumbler of dark liquor for himself. Ignis quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Just one,” Gladio promises, “Galahdian whisky, you should try it.”

He pushes the glass across the table towards Ignis sates his curiosity with a small taste. It burns, like liquor always does, but it’s pleasant in his mouth, smoky with a hint of honey sweetness as it washes over his tongue.

“That’s quite enjoyable,” Ignis allows, wondering where he can get a bottle, both for Gladio as a Solstice gift and also to have on hand in his own apartment. He imagines it’s the sort of thing Noctis might enjoy, once he’s _technically_ old enough to drink.

Ignis takes a large sip from his wine and settles more comfortable in his chair.

It _is_ nice in here, pockets of conversation buzzing in the back ground and melding pleasantly with the unfamiliar music. It’s string instruments, fiddles and acoustic guitars rarely cut through with lyrics sung in a chorus of deep voices.

They talk as easily as ever, as easily as they always have and it’s only when Ignis’ talk turns to Gladio’s latest _romantic pursuits_ that Gladio seems distracted, starting to check his phone every few minutes.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Gladio says quickly, putting his phone face down on the table. It immediately vibrates and Gladio glances at it but valiantly adds, “Why wouldn’t I be?” instead of picking it up.

“If you had better plans you needn’t have invited me out,” Ignis teases.

“I don’t have better plans,” Gladio rushes to say, “Or _any_ plans. Nothing.”

Ignis smirks at him over the rim of his wine glass.

“What’s their name?”

Gladio grins, “Now that would be telling.”

“Type?”

“Blond,” Gladio says with a wink.

“Your favourite.”

Gladio tilts his glass in a a toast, “You know it.”

A large group comes in through the door and Ignis barely spares them a glance, carefully watching Gladio as his phone buzzes a second time and he turns it over to looks at the message without unlocking his phone.

Gladio drains his glass.

“Refill?”

Ignis is only half done but he considers briefly and says, “Certainly.”

Gladio leaves him alone at the table, grabbing his phone as he merges with the new crowd that just entered. Ignis watches him go until his eyes fall on dark hair with an undercut and he’s forced to look away, stomach rioting with excitement.

It’s not _him_ , it would be too much of a coincidence for him to be here _now_. For them both to be at the same bar on the first night Ignis has had away from his apartment or the Citadel in _months_.

Ignis finds himself disappointed in the realisation, not sure exactly when his dislike had _changed_ into whatever this fluttery feeling in his gut is called. He only knows that he can mark the time of _his_ awareness down as the moment firm hands had supported his hips then pressed into his thigh to have him deepen a stretch, work himself just a _little_ farther.

Ignis finishes his first glass just as Gladio returns, another serving of the deep burgundy drink in one hand and a tall glass of soda in the other.

“I need to pop to the restroom, if you don’t mind,” Ignis tells him. Though, in general, Ignis avoids bathrooms that could be described as _public,_ to drink more and continue to enjoy himself he’ll have to take a chance.

Ignis is gone for a _maximum_ of five minutes yet when he steps out of the restroom he spies Gladio leaning against the bar, an obviously attractive blond with her hair in a long braid down her back smiling up at him. Sighing, Ignis looks towards his table, wondering if he should risk his unattended wine only to discover that his wine isn’t unattended at all.

That dark hair and undercut _had_ belonged to Nyx Ulric after all.

There’s a small part of Ignis that wants to turn on his heel and flee the building, still unused to this fluttery, nervous feeling inside of him.

Ignis _hates_ that he’s susceptible to that _smirk_ , to the cockiness Nyx exudes. To those muscles and the tight taper of his waist, to the thickness of his thighs and the way he can move around a room, a training mat at lighting speed.

Ignis thinks back to the metal piercing Nyx's chest and has to briefly close his eyes to centre himself back in reality.

Nyx twists in his seat and spots Ignis, mouth pulling up in a smile that is eager but, dare Ignis _think_ it, _nervous_. Ignis finds himself crossing the bar without consciously deciding to do so.

“Ignis,” Nyx says when he reaches the table, “I hope you don’t mind trading Gladio for me.”

Ignis’ chair is pushed out from the table a little, guided by Nyx’s foot. Ignis hesitates again and Nyx’s face sobers.

“Or I can just give you a ride home,” Nyx offers. Ignis’ chair starts to slide inwards again but Ignis throws his hand out to grab it and keep it in place.

“Let me at least finish my wine,” Ignis says.

Nyx _smirks_.

Ignis lowers himself back into his chair.

“You come here often, gorgeous?”

Ignis rolls his eyes and takes an excessively large drink.

“You can do better than that,” Ignis chides.

Nyx leans forward a little, one elbow braced on the table.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?”

Ignis snorts, “That was _worse_.”

“Are your feet tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind _all day_.”

Ignis stares at him.

“Did you fall from heaven because baby -”

“Alright now,” Ignis says and he laughs despite himself.

Nyx grins and pulls his chair closer.

“So Altissian red, huh?”

Ignis frowns a little, “Mostly.”

“I just wanted to know what to make sure the restaurants serves when I take you out for dinner.”

_The audacity._

Ignis likes it.

Normally people dither around him. Pussy foot around until he doesn’t know _what_ they want, flirting and hinting and _pretending_.

He likes this confidence. The surety that Ignis will say yes, the idea that he doesn’t _have_ to ask. Ignis doesn’t want to be controlled, he wants to always have a choice and he knows that this cockiness isn’t undermining anything within him. It’s a take charge, take a shot attitude that Ignis can get behind.

“I’m a busy man,” Ignis says blandly.

“And I’m a patient one.”

It’s such a simple exchange, something that could be put down to pure flirtation and nothing else but Nyx holds his eye as he says them and the five words feel like a promise, an understanding.

Ignis drains his glass. It’s perhaps a little faster than he would normally drink but his head feels clear and ordered, his chest perhaps a little _warm_.

“I’m ready to go home,” Ignis says.

Nyx stands and doesn’t make the mistake of offering Ignis a hand up like he had in that hallway so many weeks ago. Ignis stands and walks towards the exit knowing that Nyx will follow behind him.

Ignis makes it to the parking lot and then pauses. He has no idea what Nyx’s car looks like.

“You can wear my helmet,” Nyx says as he comes up behind him. A warm hand presses against the small of Ignis’ back but he literally _and_ metaphorically digs his heels and refuses to take another step.

“Absolutely not,” Ignis says.

Nyx steps around to the front of him, hand trailing to his waist. Ignis thinks he should maybe dislodge it but he doesn’t want to.

“Afraid of messing up your hair?”

“Motorcycles are death traps,” Ignis says flatly.

“Have you ever been on one?”

“No.”

“You can have the helmet,” Nyx says again.

Ignis pictures Nyx _on_ the motorcycle in his mind, casual and confident, leather jacket over the thin t-shirt he’s wearing, hair in disarray from the wind.

His mouth waters.

Ignis _wants_ to sit behind him, secured in places with his thighs and arms tight around the Glaive’s frame. He remembers the feel of Nyx’s hands on his hips, the brush of a firm chest against his back when he’d dismounted the pommel a second time.

“You will obey the speed limit,” Ignis demands.

“With cargo like you? Of course.”

Ignis breathes deep and sighs it out through his nose.

“I wish you had _two_ helmets,” Ignis says.

“I’ll get another for next time,” Nyx offers. Another promise.

Ignis pushes against Nyx’s chest until he moves aside and then strides towards the only motorcycle in the parking lot, pulse thrumming rapidly in his throat.

Nyx follows after him again, immediately opening the top-box behind the seat. He pulls forth a helmet and a leather jacket, both of which he holds out towards Ignis.

“You should at least keep the jacket.”

“Now _that_ I have a spare of,” Nyx says and he balances his things on the seat of his vehicle to reach in and pull a second jacket. It looks more worn, soft and _old._ Ignis reaches out and snatches it from his hand.

“I’ll have this one,” Ignis says.

Nyx mouth pulls up at once side, eyes glittering with something Ignis can't identify.

“Whatever you want,” he says.

Ignis pulls it over him, arms pushing into the sleeves. He doesn’t normally _like_ wearing leather, finds it too hot and stifling, too confining and not _flexible_ enough. But this is butter soft and pliable as he moves his arms, the faintest scent of that distinctive leather smell cut through with just a hint of woodsy cologne.

Nyx grins and puts on the other jacket and when it’s securely on he reaches out and adjusts Ignis’ collar. His fingers _just_ brushing against his throat where Ignis' pulse is racing.

Then Nyx is suddenly pushing his hand through Ignis’ hair, flattening it down a little, pushed back from Ignis’ face. Ignis jerks back and Nyx chuckles.

“Helmets going to ruin it anyway, but I figured you’d want it out of your eyes.”

“Of course,” Ignis says and a warmth spreads across his cheek. Nyx drops his hand to run his thumb across Ignis’ blush just briefly. Nyx turns to grab the helmet before Ignis can really register the touch.

“Put this on,” Nyx says softly, pushing it into Ignis’ hands, “And I’ll get you home safe.”

Nyx swings his leg over the seat, kicking the stand away and bracing the bike with his legs.

With the helmet securely in place Ignis settles behind him a little timidly, tentatively wrapping his arms around Nyx’s torso. For a moment nothing happens then Ignis hears Nyx sigh, reaching with his own hands to tug Ignis closer, secure his arms firmly around him.

“You gotta hold on _tight_ ,” Nyx says.

Ignis twists his fingers into Nyx’s soft shirt and squeezes him with his thighs.

“That’s it,” Nyx purrs and the motorcycle rumbles to life.

The ride is _something_.

Ignis isn’t sure he exactly _likes_ it, but it’s an unforgettable experience. The city lights zip past impossibly fast even though, somehow, Ignis can tell Nyx never breaks his promise to obey the speed limit. The passing cityscape is a blur that Ignis feels like he could look at forever, chilled from the wind but warmed by the presence in front of him.

It’s over too soon. Ignis still hasn’t decided if he likes it or not when Nyx is pulling up at the base of his apartment, securing the bike and turning off the engine.

“How do you know where I live?” Ignis asks without letting go.

“Gladio told me,” Nyx tells him.

“Of course.”

 _Of course_.

The insufferable busy body. Forever trying to make matches while unwilling to make any meaningful ones of his own.

Regretfully Ignis realises he needs to release his hold on Nyx for the evening to end. Regretfully he realises his evening needs to end.

He should have asked Nyx to buy him a third drink, taken the time to find out what it is the Glaive likes to drink.

Ignis climbs off the bike, trying not to focus on how _cold_ he suddenly is without Nyx’s body against his own, hastening the helmet off as fast as he can so he can pull his fingers through and reorganise it as much as possible.

“I like your hair down,” Nyx says, “I mean - you look amazing all the time, but why did you start wearing it up?”

Ignis hands him the helmet and can’t seem to keep Nyx’s eye when he says, “It makes me look older.”

He’s twenty. Nyx is older, certainly, but Ignis isn’t sure how much. Perhaps Nyx doesn’t know this or has forgotten it in light of Ignis’ position at work. Ignis doesn’t care, Nyx’s age doesn’t threaten him, Ignis is mature as most thirty year olds. He feels _at least_ thirty most days.

He's pretty sure the discrepancy between their ages is quite that extreme anyway.

Nyx half smiles at him, “I get it.”

Ignis starts to pull off the leather jacket but Nyx, hastily stashing the helmet on the seat of the motorcycle, reaches out to halt him and pull it securely back up his shoulders.

“You’ll need it for next time,” Nyx says.

Ignis rolls his eyes. But he doesn’t argue.

Nyx smirks, “When are you free?”

“Almost never,” Ignis teases and then before he can stop himself, “Now.”

Nyx’s eyes light up and he shifts closer, close enough that Ignis can feel his breath wash over his face. Ignis closes his eyes, tilts his face up _just so_. That woodsy cologne is there again stronger than before, fresh and enticing on Nyx's skin.

Ignis feels the barest flutter right at the corner of his mouth.

“Give me your phone,” Nyx says softly.

Ignis’ eyes spring open and he leans back a little, Nyx doing the same with an _obnoxious_ little wink. Ignis _wishes_ he hated it.

As he pulls his phone from his pocket Nyx gives him a little more room and Ignis is torn. He both wishing Nyx back, warm and enticing as he is, but he's also glad for the space to clear his mind and stop him from doing something _stupid_.

Nyx does something with Ignis’ phone and his own beeps in his pocket before he hands it back, home screen visible and handiwork hidden from view.

“I’ll message you,” Nyx promises.

“No kiss goodnight?” Ignis teases.

Nyx shakes his head but he reaches to cup Ignis’ face and Ignis thinks it’s to hold him steady and tilt it up to more easily plunder his mouth but all Nyx does is use his hold to keep Ignis still as he leans in to _barely_ brush his lips against Ignis’ cheek.

“Goodnight, Ignis,” Nyx says and then he’s turning from him, pulling the helmet on and mounting his motorcycle to disappear into the night.

Back upstairs Ignis swipes open his phone, immediately distracted as a text comes through. His heart races eagerly but it’s not Nyx.

[Gladio 21:39] Did you leave with Nyx?

[Ignis 21:51] Yes.

[Gladio 21:52] Are you still with him?

[Gladio 21:53] Am I in trouble?

[Ignis 21:54] No.

[Ignis 21:54] I haven’t decided yet.

Ignis puts his phone down on the side and crosses over to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

The water hasn’t quite come to the boil when he hears his phone ping once more.

[Man of Your Dreams 22:03] Goodnight Gorgeous.

Ignis snorts, pleased no one is there to witness it.

Ignis knows his schedule like the back of his hand so Ignis doesn’t need to check it. What he needs is the guts to take this chance.

Before he can talk himself out of it he taps out a message.

[Ignis 22:06] You can take me to dinner on Wednesday - I’ll be free from seven

[Man of Your Dreams 22:07] <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Ignis _hates_ emojis on principal. But these he finds oddly enjoyable.

~ ~ ~

Nyx is warm against him, snuggle hungry and downright _handsy_ now that Ignis is letting him touch him again.

It had been almost _sweet_ of Nyx, to let Ignis take control tonight, after Ignis’ control had been taken away from him earlier. It was exactly what he needed, pushing Nyx down on the bed and pinning his hands in place with nothing but _words_.

Nyx nuzzles his throat, lips soft and warm and then he drags the edge of his jaw, beard scratchy and rough and _wonderful_ , along the line of Ignis’ collarbone.

If Ignis could purr he would.

“Better?” Nyx asks and he turns his face to press his _teeth_ now against Ignis’ collarbone. The furthest up, Nyx is well aware, that Ignis can risk marks on his skin that suggest he is in fact a man with carnal desires.

“Much,” Ignis sighs, “Thank you love. I hope I wasn’t _too_ tough on you.”

“You were perfect,” Nyx mumbles, “ _Are_ perfect.”

Nyx kisses into Ignis’ throat again, his hair still slightly damp from their shower and tickling against Ignis’ skin.

“You and Prompto seemed pretty intense when we got back, what were you two talking about?”

“He was asking me how about how I knew I was in love with you,” Ignis explains. He runs his palm across Nyx’s back, feeling for any knots or hard spots that might have formed during their _exertion_.

“Oh yeah?” Nyx says and his interest is obviously piqued enough for him to raise his head and look down at Ignis when he asks, “What did you tell him?”

“That it was completely against my will and better judgement.”


	2. Fond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why?” Ignis dares.  
> “Why what?” Nyx asks.  
> “Why me?”  
> “Why not you?” Nyx asks in return.  
> Ignis opens his mouth to speak but can’t find words.  
> “Ignis,” Nyx says, “Igs. I don’t think you know how remarkable you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut starts in this one 🔥

Gladio had told Ignis that Prompto had taken a fall that morning, broken his phone case in the process and even though Gladio had assured him Prompto was physically fine Ignis still takes a careful look at his friend when they’re reunited that evening. Ignis checks his form for any sign of discomfort or an uneven gait pleased and relieved to detect nothing of the sort.

Ignis had also watched carefully when Gladio picked out a new case for his boyfriend too. Not because he didn’t trust Gladio’s taste but because it's still so lovely to see Gladio being thoughtful and _devoted_ after he spent so long proclaiming that he didn’t have those tendencies within him. That it didn’t _matter_ to him that he didn't think he could choose his partner, because he naively believed he'd be a terrible boyfriend anyway.

Prompto laughs now, as he pulls the small gift from the bag.

“Oh Em Gee. I love you.”

There’s a beat of silence where Prompto’s face pulls from joy to _panic_ and Ignis doesn’t quite know what’s going on until Prompto goes on -

“It. I mean. I love it, the phone case I mean - Gladio, I -”

“Prom,” Gladio interrupts and it’s not _quite_ fast enough Ignis’ liking but thankfully the Shield follows up immediately with, “I love you, too.”

Somehow Ignis has assumed after his and Prompto’s chat that this exchange of words would have happened already. He seems to have assumed wrong.

Prompto bursts into tears.

“No ones ever said that to me before,” he finally admits once Gladio has calmed him down.

Ignis thinks his heart just might have broken a little.

~ ~ ~

True to his word Nyx has a second helmet when he picks him up on Wednesday. Ignis pre-emptively styles his hair down, carefully using heat and _time_ to get it into a state that should survive being stuffed under a helmet for an undetermined amount of time.

Nyx won’t tell him where they’re going so Ignis has to dress all but blind, opting for his best jeans again – remembering Gladio's long ago comment about how good his ass looked in them - and one of his favourite shirts. It has a subtle floral pattern and Ignis hasn’t yet had the nerve to wear it yet.

But Ignis seems to be all full of nerve at the moment.

“Hello handsome,” Nyx greets him, leaning up against his motorcycle like he has all the time in the world.

Ignis looks briefly down at his shoes to collect himself. He's not used to being _nervous_.

“Good evening,” Ignis says a little stiffly and Nyx smiles, eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Nyx says.

“Famished.”

The second helmet is glossy black, without the full visor of Nyx’s normal one. Ignis supposes that’s not an issue, with the way he’ll probably end up tucking his face behind Nyx’s, pressed as close into Nyx as he can get with the leather and safety gear between them. Ignis takes it in hand and starts to pull it on over his head.

“Where are we going?” Ignis asks.

“That’s a secret,” Nyx teases and he swings himself over the bike, “Hop on and hold tight.”

-

_Yamachang’s_ is nothing more than a hole in a wall with a collection of mismatched furniture on the pavement in front of it. There’s a couple of people milling about, cones of fries and skewers in their hands. The proprietor spots Nyx and grins.

“Not _my_ little place,” he says, “Graced by the _great_ Nyx Ulric.”

Nyx actually looks a little bothered and Ignis buries his grin in the collar of Nyx’s leather jacket that he hasn't felt the need to take off.

“Shut up,” Nyx grumbles playfully, “You going to feed us or do I need to go somewhere else.”

The chef's eyes fall on Ignis for the first time and they light up, swinging back to Nyx with a grin.

“You bought a date here?” they asks, “Didn’t think this nice young man might like a roof and ambiance that isn’t traffic noise?”

“Well maybe if you got off your ass and opened a _real_ restaurant I wouldn’t be forced to be here,” Nyx says. He looks towards Ignis and holds his hand out with a smile. Ignis slips his hand into Nyx’s and slowly it’s warmed even through the leather of his gloves. Nyx holds Ignis' eye as he says, “Ignis deserves the best,” then turns back to his _friend_ to say, “And unfortunately you’re it.”

Ignis smiles as he listens to their banter.

He never would have come here, not by himself.

Ignis never would have come to this part of the city let alone this _alleyway_ , for want of a better word. The food smells good, over the general smell of the city, and it looks good too from what he can see in the small glimpses he gets as people eat it in his periphery.

“You had authentic Galahdian before?” the proprietor asks him.

Ignis opens his mouth to say _absolutely_ , but he’s not sure that’s true.

“Not sure how _authentic_ it really was,” Ignis admits.

“Preferences?” Nyx asks.

“Whatever you recommend,” Ignis murmurs. Ignis will eat anything once.

And this? This glimpse of Nyx's tastes, his _life_? Ignis wants it more than he can describe.

Nyx grins, “For you? I recommend the limited edition spiced ebony Yama has.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“They only make it for Galahd,” Yama says, “Damn shame. I have to import it for a bomb.”

Nyx snaps his fingers at Yama and the chef rolls his eyes. Ignis suspects this interaction happens regularly.

“A little of everything,” Nyx orders.

“That sounds like a lot of food,” Ignis says and Nyx simply shrugs.

Some other people come into the little space _Yamachang’s_ calls its own and Nyx pulls Ignis towards the tables set out, dropping his hand so he can pull one of them a little apart from the others and drag two of the chairs over. Nyx holds onto the back of one and gestures at it for Ignis to sit down.

Ignis tries not to be charmed as he takes his seat. But he is.

“Do you come here often?” Ignis asks.

Nyx stares at him for a few seconds and it dawns on Ignis that his question is almost a complete echo of the start of Nyx’s ridiculous flirting the other night.

“Often enough,” Nyx says and then, “And my feet _are_ tired, so I’m sorry if I was making a racket in that beautiful mind of yours all day.”

Despite himself Ignis laughs.

“Okay then,” Ignis says, trying for _conversation_ again, “Why did you move here from Galahd?”

Nyx shrugs first and then his face draws more serious, “Libertus and Crowe were here and after I lost Selene and Ma -”

“I’m so sorry,” Ignis interrupts.

Nyx shakes his head, “It’s okay. Well, it’s not. But, it’s been a long time now. I love Galahd, I love being Galahdian but I love my family more and my family was here. So here I came.”

“Well,” Ignis says, “I don’t like the circumstances, but I shan't pretend I’m unhappy you’re here.”

Nyx does one of his more genuine smiles.

“You didn’t feel that way a few weeks ago,” Nyx reminds him.

“And I can easily fall back there, too,” Ignis warns. Nyx reaches for his hand, cradling one in two of his own like he’s worried Ignis might be cold even through his gloves.

“Hey loverboy!” Yama calls and Nyx pulls his eyes from Ignis’ with a rough sigh.

“What?” he yells back.

“Drinks!”

Nyx rubs his thumb across Ignis’ fingers and then heads back over to the window, carrying two tall drinks in his hands with a small tray of _something_ balanced on top. When he sets the goods down Ignis sees that they’re nuts, almonds he thinks, coated in something rich and brown, the smell of allspice and sugar and something _new_.

Ignis unsnaps his glove and uses his teeth to pull the first one free so the second is easier to remove with uncovered fingers. When he next looks up Nyx is staring at his mouth, eyes dark and intense. Ignis' belly _squirms_ and he realises he's never blushed so much in his entire _life_ as he does with this man.

Nyx clears his throat and shifts the almonds onto the table, pushing one of the coffees towards Ignis.

“Here,” he says, “If you don’t like it I’ll get you something else.”

Ignis puts his gloves down on the table and Nyx’s eyes flickers towards them briefly before he scoops up a small handful of almonds and tosses them into his mouth.

The coffee is less intense that Ignis had been expecting, just a subtle warmth on his palate as it washes over his tongue, a _hint_ of whatever he suspects is on their appetiser.

“I trust your judgement,” Ignis tells him.

-

Nyx _is_ charming but it’s not as forced or as affected as Ignis had thought at first. He’s kind and genuinely funny and the more they talk the more Ignis gets the impression that sometimes, around the Citadel and perhaps with Ignis before now that Nyx has just been _trying_ really hard. Perhaps a little _too_ hard.

Ignis gets that.

He’s been trying too hard his entire life.

And now that he knows Nyx, at least a little, the fact that he can beat him in a race and probably knock him on his ass isn’t as infuriating as it is _intriguing_.

After they’ve eaten through a platter of small portions - all of it’s delicious and Ignis needs and wants to learn _more_ about these recipes - Nyx takes him back to his apartment but instead of going upstairs Ignis just _doesn’t_. He leans up against Nyx’s motorcycle and Nyx’s eyes crinkle at the corner as he talks, hands occasionally grabbing onto one of Ignis' to play with his fingers while he talks.

Nyx is a _talker_ but not a boring one. He _likes_ the things he likes, loves them, and watching his eyes light up as he talks about _Yamachang’s_ and memories of his sister makes the cage around Ignis’ heart not break, but certainly rattle.

Nyx wasn’t exaggerating when he told Ignis that Libertus and Crowe are his family now. He describes their cosy apartment, how there's no actual living room because it's a bedroom _now_ , and the countless evenings spent gathered around a rickety table in the kitchen with little more than a radio and a pack of cards for entertainment. Its a simple and honest life that Ignis is intrigued by – jealous of, in some ways.

Ignis remembers little of Tenebrae, not because he was too young before he was sent here to live with his uncle, but simply because there isn't anything to remember. His parents were distant and his uncle is the same. He's not sure if its a family trait that he himself didn't inherit or, when he's being less generous with himself if it's somehow _his_ fault.

Ignis has always had a solid roof over his head and as much comfort as he will allow himself in Regis’ overflowing kindness and his attachment to Noctis as an unofficial but deeply loved sibling.

When Ignis mentions these things, stilted and unused to talking about them, Nyx understands _that_ part but struggles to come to terms with Ignis’ parents who had put him on a boat with a nanny at six years old and sent him off to Lucis without them.

“You haven’t seen them since?” Nyx asks. He takes Ignis’ hand again but this time he slips it further up his palm, passing his fingers under the cuff of the leather jacket to press his thumb against the skin of Ignis’ inner wrist. Ignis has to swallow around around the thrumming of his pulse and low tug of _want_ in his gut. Made worse, he knows, by the idea that Nyx can _feel_ the way his pulse is racing.

“Not once,” Ignis admits.

Nyx almost seems to flounder for a moment, speechless for the first time since they’ve known each other.

“I don’t miss them,” Ignis says, “I have a life I like here, a family of sorts.”

“Right,” Nyx says, “Of course.”

They lapse into silence for a minute but even so Ignis makes no move to go upstairs.

There’s one thing he’s wanted to ask since this started, something that’s been on his mind, the tip of his tongue every time Nyx would obviously vie for his attention. When he’d run past and smirk at him or find an excuse to be in his orbit when it wasn’t completely necessary.

“Why?” Ignis dares.

“Why what?” Nyx asks.

“Why me?”

“Why _not_ you?” Nyx asks in return.

Ignis opens his mouth to speak but can’t find words.

“Ignis,” Nyx says, “Igs. I don’t think you know how _remarkable_ you are.”

Ignis’ mouth works again and Nyx’s face changes once more, that smirk of his _right_ there.

“And have you _seen_ you?” Nyx says, “I have this one thought, about your legs - actually I have a _lot_ of thoughts about your legs but this particular one where -”

Ignis fists his hand in the front of Nyx’s jacket to press their mouths together. He feels clumsy and uncoordinated even though he’s done this a hundred times before. Nyx doesn’t let it go on very long, cups his hand around Ignis’ jaw and separates them after only a few beautiful moments.

“Well okay then,” Nyx says.

Ignis tries to press forward again, for more of Nyx's mouth or maybe even just to press his body right up against Nyx’s and try and absorb more of that delicious warmth. Nyx is taller than Ignis, though not by a lot, and even though it’s his quiet preference it’s not often Ignis gets to tilt his head up in order to get at his partner’s mouth.

Nyx turns his head slightly so Ignis’ lips lands just to the side of his own.

“Nyx,” he murmurs.

“You have an early start tomorrow,” Nyx says.

Ignis hasn’t mentioned this so he must be guessing. He's guessed right too, but when does Ignis _not_ have an early start?

“I do,” Ignis concedes.

“Goodnight Ignis,” Nyx says softly.

He pulls back, straightening from where he’s leaning against his motorcycle and Ignis follows suit. Ignis still has his hand twisted in the front of Nyx’s clothes and he’s just not _quite_ ready to let him go yet.

“Iggy,” Nyx says and Ignis simply presses close again, looping his spare arm over Nyx’s shoulders to hold him close as they kiss. Nyx unfreezes against him, going warm and pliant so Ignis opens his mouth against Nyx’s to let the Glaive inside. Nyx inhales sharply and his hands are suddenly on Ignis' waist, squeezing him tight and firm.

Begrudgingly Ignis has to pull away to _breath_ but at least he’s greeted by those intense eyes that he had caught a glimpse of before.

“Do you want to -”

“Good _night_ Ignis,” Nyx says more firmly this time and Ignis exhales roughly, sneaking another kiss onto the corner of Nyx’s mouth before pulling away.

“Message me,” Ignis requests.

“Try and stop me.”

\- - -

[Man of Your Dreams 21:07] I heard about Gladio, he okay?

[Ignis 21:09] He’ll be fine, the wound is mostly superficial. Thank you for your concern though.

[Man of Your Dreams 21:11] I wanted to take you out Friday, but I offered to cover his duties so the Big Guy might actually take a little time off.

[Ignis 21:12] Thank you. He has been rather insistent he’s ready to go back to work.

[Ignis 21:13] I’ll have a hand in scheduling this week so I can confirm that you’ll be available next Friday. I’ll drive this time.

[Man of Your Dreams 21:15] It’s a date. Any chance I can see you before then? Please.

[Ignis 21:17] I’m sure you’ll find a way. If you put your mind to it.

\- - -

Tuesday.

Nyx makes it until Tuesday before he’s stepping into Ignis’ office with a manila folder in one hand and kicking the door closed with his foot.

Ignis stands from his desk as Nyx walks towards it.

“What can I do for you?” Ignis asks in surprise.

Nyx has never been in Ignis’ office before and Ignis suspects he has little cause to come up to this floor at all. He’s certainly far above the rank of someone who might be sent on an errand as simple as delivering paperwork.

“Just - just stand there,” Nyx says. He tosses the folder onto Ignis’ desk and it lands open, so that Ignis can see that it contains _nothing_. Curiously Ignis frowns at Nyx as he moves closer but he doesn’t have time to form words before Nyx’s hands are cupping his face and he's being kissed desperately.

Ignis makes a shocked noise, an aborted moan, right into Nyx’s mouth and his hands fly up, grasping his biceps as he unconsciously presses close.

Nyx ravages his mouth, a far cry from the tender way he had tried to kiss him after their date, one hand holding firm to jaw and the other trailing back to grip at the shorter hairs on the back of his head.

“Sorry,” Nyx all but gasps when he pulls away.

Though he doesn’t _sound_ very sorry at all.

“That door locks you know,” Ignis chides breathlessly.

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

Ignis scoffs but it’s cut short when Nyx runs the hand from his jaw down his throat and right across his chest, trailing it around to his back until the flat of his palm is scorching against the small of Ignis’ back through his dress shirt. Nyx tugs them together, hip to hip, then they’re kissing again.

Ignis lets himself _sink_ into it, the heat and the thrumming pulse of _something_ in his veins. Ignis has always likes kissing, thinks he’s pretty good at it, but Nyx almost unmans him. Nyx sets an unfamiliar shake in Ignis' legs so that Ignis is grateful when Nyx turns them enough to push Ignis so he’s sitting on his desk. Ignis parts his legs enough for Nyx to nestle between them and Nyx lets go of his hair to reach down and squeeze his thigh.

“I saw you,” Nyx manages, whispered against the skin of his throat. Ignis digs his own hand into Nyx’s hair and when the leather catches on a few strands Nyx outright _moans_.

“Saw me where?”

“Sparring,” Nyx says and his teeth press _just_ into his skin. Ignis tugs at his hair in reprimand and Nyx lathes the spot with his tongue, drops an apologetic kiss over the mark.

“With Gladio?”

“Mhm, you knocked him on his ass,” Nyx says. He tugs at Ignis’ thigh and they’re _impossibly_ close together now. It might be Ignis’ imagination, a hopeful fancy, but Nyx feels on the edge of hardness in his pants. His want for Ignis so obvious and uncontainable.

“I did,” Ignis confirms, “If I’d know you were watching I’d have done it over and over. Just for you.”

“Can _we_ spar together one day?” Nyx asks, pulling back a little so he can gaze into Ignis’ eyes.

Ignis thinks they probably can.

He’d like to keep _whatever_ this is between them secret, as much as he can, at least for a while.

It’s not that Ignis is ashamed, or that this breaks the rules - he’s not and it doesn’t. But Ignis _knows_ what the council is like, knows the conservative ones begrudge him the limited power he wields and how they'd like an excuse to take it away.

If they sniff out a weakness in Ignis they will exploit it until everything in him wants to destroy it and pretend it never existed in the first place.

Ignis doesn't want that to happen. They can't know, not yet.

But a Glaive and a Crownsguard with similar fighting styles and techniques training together?

“That can be arranged,” Ignis offers quietly.

“Will you put me on my ass?” Nyx asks, “Pin me to the mat?”

“Only if you’re _very_ good,” Ignis teases.

Nyx groans and Ignis is rewarded with another hungry kiss.

It doesn’t go beyond that unfortunately but Ignis is grateful for his private bathroom by the time Nyx leaves.

It's takes him a while to sort out his hair.

\- - -

Ignis recognises the music as _similar_ to what had been playing at the bar the first time he’s just _given in_ to his attraction to Nyx. It's not the _same_ , but connected by genre, if nothing else.

There’s six people on the stage, various string instruments and someone intermittently swapping a pan flute for some reeded instrument Ignis doesn’t recognise. Rarely does one of them sing but the music is full of feeling regardless. Ignis senses the depth of their loss, love and joy simply by the way they pluck at their strings.

Nyx grabs them a table and Ignis tries a glass of red wine from Galahd, begrudgingly admitting it _might be_ better than his Altissian favourite. After that first drink Nyx brings him iced coffee and they drink and _talk_ as music plays on and on.

“You learnt to cook?” Nyx asks.

“I didn’t like it at first,” Ignis tells him, “It was just another duty - but it, it brings _others_ joy and that I find great enjoyment in that.”

“Any _secret_ recipes?”

Ignis grins and pushes his glasses a little further up his nose. Nyx’s hand is on his thigh - it’s _been_ on his thigh all evening - and it squeezes.

“A fair few,” Ignis says.

“Maybe one day we’ll trade,” Nyx says.

Ignis is halfway through the word _perhaps_ when Nyx mouth presses against his own, mostly chaste but lingering and _thoughtful_. Face close even after he’s pulled away. Ignis watches Nyx’s face carefully as he considers something, half opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again. Nyx seems to think better of it, leaning back into his own chair and returning Ignis’ personal bubble to him.

Ignis doesn’t like it.

“Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?”

Nyx shakes his head, smiling just a little, “Nah. I think it might just get me in trouble.”

“Somehow I think you’d like that,” Ignis teases.

Nyx winks at him and asks if he'd like another coffee.

Ignis would.

-

Ignis is driving Nyx back to his apartment, a new CD in the tray and Nyx’s hand on his thigh again.

_High_ up on his thigh.

Ignis isn’t normally like this, normally he likes to take things slow, to establish rules and boundaries. But with Nyx -

“If you don’t move your hand I’m going to be forced to pull this car over and demand you _do_ something about it.”

Nyx scoots his hand just a little higher, fingers pressing into the crease of his hip.

Ignis flicks on the indicator and takes the next turning, heading away from Nyx’s apartment towards where he believes they can find some privacy. It’s _thrilling_ and new to Ignis, searching the lot for the darkest spot, hidden beneath the heavy branches of a few trees and well away from the single street light casting it's yellow glow.

“You know this isn’t _actually_ where I live, right?”

Ignis removes Nyx’s hand from his thigh and pops open his car door, “Back seat, _now_.”

Nyx doesn’t respond but Ignis hears his door open, and by the time Ignis is out of his seat Nyx is on _his_ side of the car, opening the back door and gesturing for Ignis to slide in. Ignis proactively sheds his jacket, tossing it into the front more carelessly than he would normally allow.

It’s cramped, Ignis has to half fold his legs up as he lays across the seats, head tilted awkwardly. But it means that Nyx is _close_ , large and looming as he climbs over the top and his hand trail up Ignis’ thigh. Nyx kisses him immediately, all teeth and tongue straight away, hot and scorching into Ignis’ gut as he fruitlessly tries to squirm closer.

“I was trying to be good,” Nyx complains, “I wanted to -” Ignis manages to arch beneath him and Nyx cuts off with a groan when it presses Ignis' cock right up against Nyx’s hip. Ignis' length has been vaguely _interested_ all evening and now feels desperate to be out of his jeans, pulsing and solid along the seam of his pants.

“ _Fuck_. You deserve better than a quickie in the _car_ , Iggy.”

“I don’t care about what I _deserve_ ,” Ignis snaps. Regrettably he realises he's completely unprepared.

At _home_ he’s made sure to be prepared, has indulged himself a little in fantasies more frequently in past weeks. Tested out the fresh stock of lube he'd impulsively bought a while ago. But here in hi _car_ there's nothing.

Ignis curses his own impatience.

“What do you want?” Nyx asks, nibbling at his bottom lip.

“You,” Ignis grunts.

Nyx huffs, the hand on his hip regrettably disappearing and for a moment and then returning when Nyx all but slams it back down beside Ignis’ shoulder. Ignis glances to the side and sees a generic brand condom and a sachet of _ulwaat berry_ lubricant.

“That doesn’t look like being _good_ to me,” Ignis says but he slides his hands along Nyx’s flank to start unbuckling his belt.

“I said I was _trying_ ,” Nyx says, adding “Hasty, hasty,” as Ignis all but growls in frustration upon struggling with the the zipper.

“ _Hasty_ ,” Ignis mocks, “You _flirt_ with me, you _best_ me, you sneak into my office, you convince me onto your _motorcycle_ and -”

Nyx’s tongue is in his mouth again and his hands start to drag Ignis shirt free from his jeans.

Nyx separates their mouths with an audible _pop_.

“What do you want?” he breathes.

Ignis gets Nyx’s pants open and pushed aside, shoving his boxers down immediately after. Nyx’s cock is thick and heavy gainst his palm. Nyx groans, mouth pressed to Ignis’ jaw.

“Hmm? I said already. _You_.”

Nyx chuckles, “What _way_ I mean.”

Ignis pretends to consider it. There’s no contest really, not this time, the first time. He pulled over into this parking lot because he wants Nyx to fuck him, wants to be split apart by the cock in his hand that's been haunting his dreams since the first time he allowed himself to think about it.

Ignis grabs the condom with his empty hand and Nyx watches carefully as he tears it open with his teeth, reaching between them and rolling it on with deft fingers. Nyx inhales.

“Pants,” he grits out and Ignis finds himself deliciously manhandled around the small space and his trousers stripped from his body. He ends up on his knees, face pressed into the leather of his crown issue vehicle. The smell of the upholstery mingling with the sweet, artificial scent of the lube that Nyx spreads across his fingers and around Ignis’ hole.

“You deserve better than this,” Nyx complains again but Ignis half playfully aims a kick at him and Nyx slips his fingers inside him to soothe him. They can't afford to take their time but Nyx stretches him thoroughly, playing with Ignis entrance until he’s biting down on his own fist to try and keep silent.

Nyx withdraws and flips him back over, Ignis wasting no time in getting his legs wrapped around Nyx’s hips. Ignis won't budge, not even when Nyx grumbles how it’s making it _harder_ for him to do what Ignis wants from him.

When Nyx presses inside it's with one smooth roll of his hips and Ignis presses his mouth into the fabric still covering Nyx’s collarbones to keep from keening.

“Gods,” Nyx mutters, “I should have made you drive home. Next time I’m going to spread you out across a mattress -”

He cuts off with a sharp groan when he shoves froward, seating himself more firmly and deliciously inside of Ignis.

It’s _wonderful_.

Nyx is broad and strong both around _and_ inside him. This hasty detour might be one of the best decisions Ignis has ever made.

And then he _remembers_.

They’re so tight together it’s a struggle but Ignis wiggles one of his hands under Nyx t-shirt, the other firmly palming his ass to encourage him to keep moving. Forbid him from stopping.

Nyx makes a low grunt when Ignis’ fingers dip into the definition of his abs, fingers trailing through the thick line of hair on Nyx's belly. When Ignis presses presses two of his fingers on either side of Nyx’s nipple, Nyx almost whines and Ignis feels powerful as he presses against the small metal bar that’s been the main focus of so many fantasies.

They’re rushing through it, looking for a straight shot to the finish line as it were. But something about the closeness, the cramped quarters and the steam fogging the windows makes it so _intense_. So glorious and _illicit_.

They could be caught at any time. Arrested, Ignis is fairly certain, for doing this somewhere so public. It would mess up Ignis’ career perhaps and certainly tarnish his carefully fostered reputation.

Nyx makes a particularly wonderful thrust that almost has Ignis’ eyes rolling back in his head and Ignis thinks it would probably be worth it.

\- - -

[Loverboy 14:12] Dinner tonight?

[Ignis 14:15] I can be amenable. Pick me up at seven?

[Ignis 14:15] And when on Eos did you get hold of my phone again?

[Loverboy 14:16] When you were putting your pants back on.

[Loverboy 14:17] I’ll be there right on time <3

-

Nyx is _early_.

Ignis' hair is still damp from his shower, combed and neat but not up in his common style. He’s dressed, mostly, in jeans and a more casual button up shirt - soft _expensive_ linen - but he’s still puttering about in his socks getting ready.

Ignis opens his apartment door, ready to jokingly complain about his earliness but it dies on his tongue when he sees that Nyx is holding a large brown paper carrier bag full of groceries in his arms.

“I thought I’d cook for you,” Nyx says by way of a greeting.

“I -” Ignis flounders.

When was the last time someone cooked _for him_.

“Don’t you trust me?” Nyx asks casually, but there’s something vulnerable in his eyes.

“Of course,” Ignis says, “I do. This is just - it’s unusual.”

“You don’t like people cooking for you?” Nyx guesses and Ignis steps back to let him inside.

“I do,” Ignis says but it’s really a guess rather than actual fact. Ignis _really_ can’t remember the last time someone cooked _just_ for him.

The Citadel chefs cook for him when he dines with Noctis and His Majesty but that's for _them_ and Ignis is just a lucky side thought.

Nyx takes a look around the open plan space as he steps inside, pausing only to offer Ignis a peck on the mouth - casual and easy - before kicking off his shoes and heading straight for the kitchen. Ignis follows after him in a bit of a daze.

“Would you like some help?” Ignis asks.

Nyx shakes his head, “I want you to _relax_.”

“I think that cooking with you _would_ be very relaxing.”

Nyx looks at him a little in surprise, eyes and smile soft.

“You can chop,” Nyx allows.

Ignis joins him in the kitchen, gathering together his nicest chopping boards and his sharpest knives.

“What are we eating?” Ignis asks as Nyx unpacks the bags. First out are several small pots of _unlabelled_ spices and Ignis’ interest ramps up ten fold.

“Something I used to eat _all_ the time back in Galahd,” Nyx explains, “So I hope you’re not tired of _authentic_ Galahdian food.”

“Never,” Ignis says. Nyx pulls two peppers from his bag, longer and thinner than those Ignis usually cooks with. He wonders how the flavour will differ.

“What’s in those pots?” Ignis asks him.

“That’s for me to know and you to _maybe_ find out one day in the future.”

Ignis scoffs playfully, “Tease.”

“Always,” Nyx promises and he leans into Ignis’ space to brush his lips across his cheek.

-

Nyx has an early start the next day but when Ignis asks him to stay he still says yes.

“Early to bed, perhaps?” Ignis suggests coyly when he’s stacked the last plate in the dishwasher. Nyx had _insisted_ on helping with that too, stacking the leftovers into Ignis’ containers for him to eat for lunch the next day, and passing the plates to Ignis after a quick rinse.

“I can get behind that,” Nyx says.

Ignis offers a night cap, already reaching into one of his high cupboards for a glass. Ignis isn’t watching Nyx so it comes as some surprise when he crowds Ignis from behind. Hands gripping his hips and nose pressing pressing into the hair behind his ear so Nyx can mouth at his neck.

“You never gave me the tour,” Nyx rumbles.

“There’s not much to see,” Ignis says, “I wonder if you can find the bedroom without assistance.”

Nyx chuckles and digs his fingers in a little firmer on Ignis’ hips. Ignis closes the cupboard. Suddenly a night cap doesn’t seems so appealing.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Nyx asks. His breath hot against the back of his neck. Somehow that makes Ignis _shiver_.

“Something about me and a mattress?”

Nyx hums and pulls Ignis by the hips as he steps back from the counter. Ignis turns around at a single nudge from Nyx' hand and Nyx thanks him with a kiss.

It’s like when he’d cornered Ignis in his office, rough hands and eager tongue.

They kiss all the way to the bedroom, slow going with Nyx untucking Ignis’ shirt on the move. One hand moves to the buttons when its free and pressing against the delicate skin of his back, _scorching_ hot with no fabric in the way.

Ignis shrugs his shirt off and, bare from the waist up, he falls eagerly back onto bed at Nyx's gentle shove.

“Take off your pants,” Nyx says before he pulls his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly onto the carpet. Normally Ignis would be bothered by the mess but he hadn’t complained when his own shirt had been discarded just outside the door and he won’t complain about this either.

Ignis undoes his belt and gets his button and fly open enough to push his jeans all the way down his legs, removing his socks too, before he throws his clothes carelessly away from him.

They can be dealt with _later_.

Nyx has undone his own jeans and they’ve sunk low on his hips, the half hard shape of his cock clearly visible to Ignis’ hungry eyes. Nyx forgoes further undressing to lean over Ignis, crowding him on the mattress to kiss him again. Nyx runs his hand along Ignis’ flank and Ignis arches into it, _desperate_ for more, for something from this man.

Ignis’ own fingers find Nyx’ nipple again and his lover gifts him with an almost rough bite on his lower lip in reprimand, grabbing his hand and pushing it back on the bed.

“Behave,” Nyx growls and Ignis would give a snappy come back but Nyx dips down to lick flat across _his_ nipple instead and Ignis can only moan softly, fingers itching to twist into Nyx’s long hair. Nyx doesn’t focus on it for long, mouthing it for only moments before he’s diverting onto the skin _beside_ his nipple and working at it diligently as his fingers snap the waistband of Ignis’ underwear. When Ignis doesn’t refuses Nyx pushes them down and away, letting Ignis take care of manoeuvring them all the way off in favour of wrapping his strong fingers around Ignis’ cock.

Nyx hums thoughtfully and it sounds almost _luxuriant_ to Ignis’ ears.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” Nyx says parting with Ignis’ chest in favour of kissing up his throat to his mouth.

Ignis tests his luck by putting a hand to Nyx’s hip and giving him a small press. He feels Nyx smile into the kiss and twists his hand around Ignis’ cock.

“Eager?”

“ _Nyx_ ,” Ignis scolds. It would be _nice_ , Ignis thinks, if Nyx were naked too but his idiot lover offers assistance in the matter no further than _not_ batting Ignis away when he slips his hand into Nyx’s underwear to squeeze the firm muscle of his ass.

Nyx suddenly drops Ignis' cock to brace himself on both arms over Ignis and when he gives Nyx another nudge their hips meet, Ignis’ length pressing against the rough fabric of Nyx’s jeans.

“Iggy,” Nyx groans, “Igs. Can I have you again?”

“Yes,” Ignis breathes, “Yes.”

Nyx kisses him one last time then pats his hip, encouraging to move up the bed. Ignis does, twisting to grab supplies from his bedside draw to the back drop of Nyx’s clothes rustling and _finally_ dropping onto Ignis’ carpet.

Ignis hadn’t gotten to see him naked last time, Ignis had been the least dressed of the two of them and he’d only been bared from the waist down. Nyx had simply pushing his clothes out of the way enough to free everything he needed to split Ignis apart and make him cry out his pleasure into the skin of Nyx’s throat.

It had been fantastic, of course, but not without it’s drawbacks.

Ignis’ hair is so fine and pale that it almost needn’t exist at all but Nyx’s is thick and course, a delicious extra sensation he hadn’t been anticipating but now relishes when Nyx settles between his thighs. Ignis anchors his thighs around Nyx’s to tug him close and Nyx comes easy this time, trapping their cocks together between two firm stomachs. They're different there too. Ignis _has_ abs, a soft definition of muscle but he's lean and slender where Nyx has bulk, built to be firm and strong.

Ignis feels almost _delicate_ between Nyx's arms.

They haven’t gotten to spar together yet and Ignis needs to remedy that soon.

For now he simply draws Nyx into a kiss, letting the Glaive weigh him down into his mattress. They’re pressed together from hip to shoulder, their hands wandering and mouths hungry. One of Nyx’s hands wanders right off of him, fumbling on the bed until he comes across the lube.

Nyx prepares him _slowly_ and carefully this time, a sharp counter to how it had been in the car - efficient but rushed. The sensation steals the breath right out of Ignis' lungs, leaving him wrought out and shaking when they’ve barely started.

Ignis oozes a mess onto his stomach, wanting to touch himself but not daring to lest he end it all too soon.

Nyx is somewhere everything Ignis would have asked for without knowing it with his broad shoulders and rough hands. The delicious way he nuzzles his coarse beard into Ignis’ neck, collarbone and _thighs_.

Ignis thinks – worries - Nyx might keep him there all night but when Ignis reaches for the condom the wrapper crinkles loudly over the sound of their combined panting. Nyx pulls away from here he’s mouthing at his chest _again_ \- fingers buried deep inside him - to look up with marked interest.

“You’re ready?”

“I was ready a long time ago,” Ignis points out.

Nyx chuckles and rears back, kneeling to prepare himself and Ignis stares at the long line of his body, the thick muscles of his thighs. Looking at him puts _ideas_ in Ignis' head.

“Nyx,” Ignis says and he pauses where he was starting to lean back over him.

“Igs?”

“Lie on your back?” Ignis asks.

Nyx smirks but wordlessly shifts to settle beside Ignis on his back. Ignis wastes _no time_ in swinging his own leg over Nyx’s hips and pulling himself atop of him. Nyx palms his hips immediately, hands oddly gentle as the Glaive exhales long and slow.

“Problem?” Ignis teases.

“I’ve got the _farthest_ thing from a problem,” Nyx says.

Ignis reaches behind him to take Nyx in hand, holding his cock steady so he can settle back and take it into his body. Nyx’s hands tighten on his hips to hold him firmly and slow his decent, prolong the time it takes to fully join their bodies again.

“This one one of those thoughts I had,” Nyx remarks, aiming for offhand, Ignis is certain, but betrayed by the breathlessness in his voice, “About your legs.”

Ignis tries to smile, but really his mouth just warbles slightly with his moan as he bottoms out, ass pressed against Nyx’s thighs.

This is better, not just than the rushed encounter in the car but better than everything else too, every _one_ else too.

Nyx feels unbelievably hot beneath him, firm and solid in a way that Ignis could never achieve. Maybe he doesn’t have Ignis’ fine bone structure, but Ignis thinks there’s something more attractive in this rugged charm of Nyx’s. A carefully crafted kind of dishevelment that looks particularly enticing amongst Ignis’ dark sheets.

Ignis tries to move, to lift himself up and start up the dizzying pace he's been imagining in his head but Nyx holds on tight to him, ensuring he stays still and full and almost _overwhelmed_.

“Nyx,” Ignis groans, “Nyx, _please_.”

Ignis wouldn’t normally beg, not so quickly and not without provocation but he _needs_ to move. Ignis needs to ride Nyx into this mattress until he’s as speechless and undone as he often makes Ignis feel.

Nyx _hums_ , the asshole, and just continues to look up at Ignis, eyes hooded and intense.

“I - I _need_ -”

“Need, huh?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ignis snaps, almost growling with frustration.

Nyx pushes on his hips, a beautiful shift that presses him somehow deeper just briefly before tugging them forward again in a slow grind that sets every nerve in Ignis’ body on fire.

Nyx groans and _watches_ Ignis’ hips roll, fingertips ghosting against his pale skin.

“Come here,” Nyx grits out and Ignis bends to kiss him, palms flat against his chest for support. The slight angle change gives Ignis the leverage he needs to _really_ start moving, rocking back into the thrusts Nyx starts to gift him with from below.

Nyx pulls him even father forward, hand moving to his back, so he can get his mouth can takes up residence on his chest again, rough cheek _teasing_ against Ignis’ nipple as his lips and tongue continue to work what is sure to be a lasting mark into Ignis’ skin _._

Obviously trusting Ignis to stay within reach, Nyx shifts his hand from Ignis’ spine to between them, taking Ignis' cock back into his hand, palm immediately slick from the utter mess Ignis is making of himself.

“Look at you,” Nyx mumbles, close to his heart, “You feel close to bursting already.”

Nyx strokes the length of him from root to tip, palming across Ignis’ head and moving back down again. Ignis feels his thighs quiver.

“That’s it,” Nyx praises and Ignis is surprised by how much that affects him, a tightening deep on his belly.

“So good,” Nyx mutters, thrusting upwards a little more roughly.

Ignis almost yells, the noise strangling in his throat as he tries to breath deep and steady to slow the rapid quick build up of pleasure of his impending release.

“Fuck,” Ignis gasps and Nyx _laughs_ , a half delirious chuckle.

Nyx’s fingers _bruise_ into the flesh of his ass now, thrusts rough and the hand on Ignis’ cock moving fast and even.

“ _That’s_ what I was waiting for,” Nyx says.

Ignis rides him as best he can, thighs audibly colliding with Nyx’s as bounce off one another.

It’s a _lot_ , almost _too_ much, but everything about Nyx pulls Ignis along and then over. Ignis’ pleasure bursts violently, splattering across Nyx’s torso as Ignis rears back a little, head tossed back as he yells is completion into the quiet air of his apartment.

Ignis needs a minute to recover, pressed tight to Nyx with his lover restless beneath him. The moment Ignis feels the strength return to his legs he starts moving again. Without his own pleasure to distract him Ignis can concentrate on squeezing Nyx just right, focus on rotating his hips to to give Nyx the _best_ ride of his life.

Nyx swears then too, growling the word over and over as he thrusts up sharply, jabbing his cock upwards as he finds his release within Ignis' trembling form.

“Gods,” Ignis says, collapsing against Nyx’s chest and wincing when his lover sips free from his body.

Nyx’s arms wrap around his shoulders and squeeze him tight. He presses a kiss to Ignis’ hair where it’s sweat damp and curling up along his hairline.

Ignis should probably get up but he doesn't want to and Nyx makes no move to make him.

-

Something brushes against Ignis’ eyelid, a gentle flutter that’s noticeable only in its unfamiliarity. Ignis blinks slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Shh,” Nyx hushes, voice barely a whisper, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What time is it?” Ignis mumbles.

“Just after five,” Nyx says giving him a soft kiss on his brow, “I have an early rotation though, so I’ve gotta go.”

Ignis blinks in the darkness.

“You stayed?”

“Of course I - did you think I was gonna cut and run?” Nyx asks incredulously.

_Yes_ , Ignis thinks though even pulled unexpectedly from sleep he senses the words are better left unsaid.

“Ignis - _Igs_ \- come here.”

Nyx pulls him close, mouth soft and gentle against his own. They're both still bare and Nyx’s skin is _hot_ when it presses up against his own. Ignis has always run cold, fingers like icicles when they’re not in his gloves and he shifts _even_ closer, greedy for the comfort Nyx provides.

“I thought - maybe it was just -”

“This isn’t _just_ anything,” Nyx says, “I wouldn’t put in all this effort just to get my dick wet.”

Ignis _trembles_ a little.

“You’re not worried about our ages?”

Nyx laughs, “It’s _six_ years. That’s _nothing_. And you’re the oldest twenty year old I’ve ever met.”

Ignis chuckles too, wrapping his arm around Nyx’s back to hold him _even_ closer to kiss him again.

-

Nyx _does_ leave in the end, he has to, but he stays long enough to kiss Ignis’ fears away and make it so it’s not _really_ worth Ignis attempting to go back to sleep. Ignis _does_ allow himself to languish in the bed though, a rare midweek treat. Ignis presses his face into the pillow not long vacated by his lover. Nyx always smells _amazing_ , woodsy and almost _spiced_ with something that’s not familiar to Ignis but also isn’t the mysterious thing Nyx had used in their dinner the night before.

Ignis’ alarm goes off as expected and Ignis pulls himself out of bed the moment it’s done chiming. Before he can finish stretching his arms over his head though his phone sounds again, the rhythmic little bells of his message tone.

Nyx has sent a selfie, bleary eyed but half smiling at what Ignis can only assume is his morning guard post; the wall behind him certainly _looks_ like the external walls of the Citadel. Below the picture - which Ignis already knows he won’t be deleting anytime soon - is a single message.

[The Best You Ever Had 07:01] Have a good day at work, Gorgeous <3

Ignis laughs as he texts back _you wish_ but annoyingly the name change rings _true._

\- - -

They have another impromptu sleepover but this time Ignis is the one pulling himself out of bed earlier than either would really like. Nyx barely stirs when Ignis kisses his cheek and slips from the covers.

Ignis cranks the temperature in his shower all the way up, as is his custom, and brushes his teeth as he waits for the water to warm. Steam billows out when he opens the door to step inside.

Ignis gets his hair washed and is just squirting some of his lavender and geranium body wash onto his body puff when the shower door slides open, bringing a chill with it.

Nyx snakes his arms around Ignis’ waist and kisses the back of his neck, flinching when the water cascades over his skin.

“Jeez, Igs,” Nyx mutters, not letting him go, “How do you even have skin left?”

Ignis turns in Nyx’s hold, spreading the foam from his body puff across Nyx’s chest and over his shoulder as he drapes his arms over them. Pushing up onto his tiptoes to seal their mouths together in a kiss that Nyx is actually alert enough to properly return.

“Touch that temperature dial and I’ll cut off your hand,” Ignis mutters right against his mouth.

Nyx skims his hands down the length of Ignis’ spine, fingers stopping to massage right at the base of it.

“You act like I can’t withstand a little discomfort,” Nyx says, “Even after what we did last night.”

Ignis kisses Nyx again to keep from laughing.

“If it was _uncomfortable_ for you then I wasn’t doing my job correctly,” Ignis says.

“You were _perfect,_ ” Nyx promises, “So perfect you can do it again right now if you like. Shall I bend over? Touch my toes?”

Ignis can’t prevent his laugh from escaping this time.

“Another morning perhaps. I have a meeting in forty minutes.”

\- - -

Ignis is in an impromptu evening meeting when his phone vibrates in the pocket of his dress pants. He’s allowed to check his phone of course, in case it’s Noctis, so he thinks nothing of it when he thumbs open the app and clicks on the notification.

Nyx’s chest fills his screen, abs tight and defined with water beading between his pecks. At the very bottom of the image, almost cut off from view, Nyx is holding himself, fist perfectly obscuring what Ignis presumes to be the tip of his hard length.

As subtly as he can Ignis tilts his phone to one side so that Regis can’t see if he just happens to look to his left.

[Boyfriend? 19:20] Just got back from my double. Missing your gorgeous face <3

_Boyfriend_.

Ignis hasn’t looked at their chat since he and Nyx had parted yesterday morning. He’s not prone to fits of sentimentality that would have him flicking back through their messages, moon-eyed and nostalgic.

_Boyfriend_.

They haven’t discussed it.

Knowing that this has been sitting here in his phone, something that Ignis has been _hoping_ for but too nervous to dare and ask, is almost _too much_.

Ignis would have seen this any time over the last two days and he just _hadn't_.

[Ignis 19:24] If you were to start heading to my apartment now we’d probably arrive around the same time.

[Ignis 19:25] I wouldn’t want to make my boyfriend do without me any longer than necessary.

[Boyfriend? 19:26] <3 <3 <3

\- - -

Ignis passes Nyx in a hallway while he’s rushing back to his office and, as he’s want to do, he gives Ignis a wink right before they cross paths.

Ignis doesn’t have _long_ between meetings, but it’s long enough to hide away in his office and go over a few reports. Maybe even complete some of the mindless filing that still falls within his list of duties.

The door snaps shut behind him and Ignis beelines towards the desk, coming up short when he spies something nestled next to his keyboard that he _definitely_ didn’t leave there.

It’s a small pot and single purple chrysanthemum, beautiful and vibrant with it’s rows and rows of delicate petals. Ignis picks up the flower in one hand, smiling as he brushes the soft petals against his cheek. With his other hand he grabs the pot, reading the hand written words on the _just_ wonky label.

_Nyx’s Special Rub_.

Ignis spins it around in his hand, searching for more information, a list of ingredients or a mere _hint_ of what is inside the tub. But it’s bare.

Of course it’s bloody bare.

\- - -

It’s only three weeks.

Ignis tells himself over and over that it’s only three weeks.

Everyday when he _doesn’t_ see Nyx due to this _blasted_ mission on the Niflheim Tenebrae border Ignis is worse of for it.

Their reunion is the sweetest Ignis has ever known.

Nyx turns up unexpectedly with a bottle of that deep burgundy wine that Ignis prefers and they share it over take-out from the gods awful noodle place just a block away.

Ignis had _missed_ him, more than he can surely explain with words because each time he tries they just won’t come. It’s just a squirming feeling in his belly when his phone goes off and the disappointment when it's not Nyx, a heavy feeling in his chest the longer they’re apart.

All Ignis knows is that he missed his boyfriend; the clumsy kiss first thing in the morning, the fact Ignis is _bored_ because the name in his phone hasn’t changed for three weeks. Ignis misses Nyx's shoulder rubs while he cooks in the evening and the fact they use up all the hot water a few times a week. Nyx forever complaining about _how fucking hot_ Ignis has the water but never actually turning it down.

Ignis wishes he had the words to tell Nyx _any_ of this but instead he simply has to lay here with him now, eyes growing heavier with every second but fighting against them so he can look at Nyx for just one minute longer.

“I love you,” Nyx says and Ignis blinks in surprise. They’ve been together a while now, but not -

Ignis isn’t sure that he -

He doesn’t -

“I know you’re going to need extra time,” Nyx tells him, “That this isn't as as easy for you. But I needed you to know. That I _love_ you, Ignis.”

“Nyx,” Ignis murmurs, “I care about you very much.”

Nyx sighs, like this is a _relief_ to him and Ignis hastens to add, “I’m sorry if I hadn’t made that clear.”

“ _Igs_ ,” Nyx whispers, “Of course I know but I - honestly, every time you open your front door to let me in I count that as a win. And I’ll never stop feeling that way.”

“I love you,” Ignis blurts, the words building and tumbling out of him before he can give them too much thought. No second guessing, no endless _thinking_ about something before he says it. Ignis can give Nyx this, his raw and honest feelings without his usual filter.

Ignis had _missed_ him. Because Ignis _loves_ him.

~ ~ ~

Prompto is nervous about something. That much would be obvious even _if_ Prompto didn’t wear all his emotions boldly and bravely right in the shape of his brow and the corner of his mouth.

“Are you alright?” Ignis asks when it’s just the two of them together on the couch, Noctis having decided to call his father somewhat unexpectedly.

“Yes,” Prompto says way too fast to be honest. He corrects himself a moment later, “No, actually. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Ignis mutes the television and turns to give Prompto his full attention.

“So um - you know I was born in Niflheim.”

Ignis simply smiles at him. Yes, Ignis knew that. Heard as much from Prompto’s mouth, read as much in that blasted background check

“Uh. So,” Prompto goes on. He licks his bottom lip and then presses his teeth into it. Ignis tries not to worry about his well-being.

“I was in foster care from when I was eight. From place to place, you know.”

Ignis nods again, he’d known this too. It doesn’t make it any less sad, doesn’t mean that Ignis isn’t disappointed and angry at all the people that had passed him over.

If only they’d known what they were missing out on.

“And before that I was raised in a facility,” Prompto manages to say, voice shaky and uncertain. Ashamed. “I’m sure you know all about them. Where they were taking the kids and training them up to be soldiers.”

“I have heard about them yes,” Ignis says very carefully, “Nobody deserves to be raised in such a place.”

Prompto tries to smile but it’s an extremely weak approximation of how he normally looks.

“Well I wasn’t just raised there. But born too. Or made, maybe is the right word.”

That’s - that’s _not right_.

That’s not right at all.

“What do you mean?” Ignis asks.

Prompto licks across his bottom lip again.

“Um, I don’t have any parents,” Prompto says, face flushing with that shame again, “And I’m the only one that was born in the facility, that I ever found out, so - I dunno. I think they might have made me or something. They were messing around with genetics -”

“You don’t have any parents?” Ignis blurts, “Are you sure they aren’t just, sadly, no longer with us.”

Prompto shakes his head _no_ so decisively that Ignis can tell he’s convinced of this _error_.

This is not the same as the information Ignis read. It’s _not_.

Unless he’s remembering wrong?

“But they would have listed them,” Prompto tells him, “Here.”

Prompto pulls his phone from his pocket and starts tapping away at it. In moments it’s being pressed into Ignis’ hold and at the top of the page is a vaguely familiar serial number, the number Ignis knows to be tattooed on Prompto’s wrist even though he hasn’t ever seen it and would never let Prompto know he’s aware of it’s existence.

“See? And if you swipe to the next one they have like parents, grandparents, siblings all listed.”

But Ignis doesn’t swipe to the next one because _what is he looking at_?

It’s a database of _children_. Apparently easily accessible via the average smart phone, with information - _personal_ information - about everyone kept inside those horrendous facilities.

And the information is _wrong_.

Because Ignis has seen all of this before and maybe he can’t remember what exactly it says, but he's certain it’s not this:

_Mother: Not Applicable_

_Father: Not Applicable_

_Place of Birth: First Infantry Training Facility_

Not applicable? How can someone be _not applicable_ to parents.

Ignis needs to know, he _has_ to know. This isn’t right.

“Iggy?”

Ignis straightens up, realises he’s been _glaring_ down at the phone.

“Apologies,” Ignis offers.

“Everything okay?”

“I - of course,” Ignis says. Trust Prompto to worry about _him_ during what must be a difficult and emotional moment for himself.

“Thank you for trusting me with this Prompto,” Ignis says, feeling a touch overwhelmed but wanting his feelings to be clear, “I’m honoured. Though I will assure you that if you were concerned this might change the way I think about you that you haven’t told me anything that I didn’t already know.”

Prompto exhales in a rush, posture turning a little more casual like Ignis is used to, “I thought as much.”

“It really does mean a lot that you _chose_ to tell me, however, and I wish we had been in a situation where it wasn’t necessary for me to know things about you before you could tell me yourself.”

“It’s okay,” Prompto reassures him gently, “Comes with the Noct territory.”

They're quiet for a moment before Prompto asks, “Does Nyx know?”

Ignis hesitates because Nyx absolutely knows.

Ignis can’t keep secrets from him even when he _tries_.

“I don’t mind if he does,” Prompto hastens to say. He shrugs a little, “I am kind of done doing big talking about it things though. So. If he finds out and I don’t have to tell him I wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Ignis breathes and offers Prompto some honestly of his own, “It’s difficult for me to keep things from him at all, I admit. But also, there was a time when I was concerned about you - not your character, never your character - just your well-being and it was hard to explain to Nyx why this was the case without giving him some deeper understanding of your history.”

Prompto smiles a little more earnestly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you guys are really cute?” he says

Ignis bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, “Very few have the nerve.”

Prompto’s background check is still in his office, the locked draw right at the bottom of his fling cabinet.

Ignis wants to go find it, to text Nyx and have him bring it over with him later but Prompto is still smiling at him. His friend looks relieved and _happy_ and Ignis can’t bear the thought of abandoning him now.

Later. It can wait until later. The information is there. Ignis can deal with this whenever.

Whenever being _soon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturation|Exposure readers might have noticed but Yamachang’s does in fact get a real restaurant and the boys eat there all the time. It’s where Prompto does magic and gets Noct to willingly eat hummus and Gladio is 'banned' from by one of the servers.


	3. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I should tell him shouldn’t I? Right away. Stop being a coward.”  
> Nyx reaches across the table to take his hands, “First of all there’s nothing cowardly about you. Secondly yes and no. Yes you should tell him but no, you shouldn’t do it right away.”  
> “I should let him enjoy the holiday,” Ignis says.  
> “Let him get a one good one under his belt.”  
> Ignis squeezes his hands and tentatively asks, “Will you help me?”  
> “Of course I will.”  
> Of course he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone not familiar with the rest of the series, the flashback in this one is only about six months or so before the current time.  
> Also did you get that Nyx has a thing for Ignis’ gloves? Because he’s got a thing for his gloves.

Ignis knew the database was wrong.

It’s not _very_ wrong and some might even argue it’s simply a different way of relaying the same information. But Ignis knows the careful use of language when he sees it, knows how information can be _concealed_ when it cannot be removed.

_Mother: [Redacted]_

_Father: [Redacted]_

_Place of Birth: First Infantry Training Facility_

Prompto had parents. The nonsense idea he’s convinced of that he was _built_ like some machine is just that; _nonsense_.

Prompto had parents that are worth keeping secret.

Even from Prompto.

Even from _Ignis_.

\- - -

[Dreamboat 16:12] [Image00987.jpg]

Ignis turns the phone over so it’s screen down against his desk, blush prickling across his cheeks.

“What was that?” Gladio asks.

“Nothing,” Ignis says quickly and he tries to distract Gladio’s curiosity by serving the extra ribs over onto Gladio’s plate.

But it’s not _nothing_.

Damn Nyx for sending that picture _now_ during this time he has set aside every week to have lunch with hos oldest friend.

Gladio smirks but doesn’t say anything. Ignis knows for a _fact_ that he too is periodically subject to these little _gifts_ from his partner. Unexpected but _never_ unwelcome.

Ignis wouldn’t necessarily mind but that’s _his_ apron, tied around Nyx’s hips. His _bare_ hips.

Ignis wouldn’t even mind _that_ were he at home and able to really enjoy the sight of Nyx’s bare ass moving around their kitchen.

“How’s Prom’s citizenship coming?” Gladio asks instead of pushing it, “Anything I can do to help?”

“You could get married,” Ignis says without really thinking about it.

It really would be the _easiest_ solution. Though perhaps not the _best_.

Gladio looks up _startled_ but not particularly upset.

“Is that the only way?” Gladio asks.

“No,” Ignis assures him, shaking his head, “I misspoke. Prompto will have a formal citizenship here regardless of any relationships he may or may not have. It’s simply _complicated_.”

\- - -

“What is it?” Nyx asks him, nuzzling the scruff of his cheek into Ignis’ smooth jaw when he joins him by the stove.

“What’s what?” Ignis asks.

“You’ve been frowning for _days_ ,” Nyx says, “Did you fight with Noct? Your uncle? It can’t possibly be Prompto.”

Except is _is_ Prompto.

Not the blond himself of course, but this whole _situation_.

Ignis has searched and dug through files and files. Whenever he thinks he’s got it, an amendment here and original document there, it’s not _quite right_. It’s never exactly what he needs. It’s never exactly about Prompto and who his mysterious parents were.

Ignis wonders if they’re still alive. Still alive and unwilling to claim a son _tainted_ by such a place.

Ignis wonders if Prompto being alive could affect anything.

 _What if he’s the dead emperors son?_ Ignis wonders.

It would be a _nightmare_ politically. There are still some loyalists in Niflheim that would rally behind the Aldercapt line, that would welcome a new Imperial leader onto that disastrous throne no matter where they were born or how they were raised.

All that matters to them is the _bloodline_.

“Iggy,” Nyx sighs.

He’s worried, not frustrated, Ignis can tell by the lack of lines between his browns, by the way he’s not avoiding Ignis’ gaze but meeting his face head on, eyes open and beseeching.

“It’s nothing,” Ignis says.

Nyx brushes a kiss over the corner of your mouth.

“You’re lying,” Nyx says, “But I can wait until you’re ready to tell me.”

-

After they’ve eaten Nyx disappears and Ignis, focused intently on the papers and files he’d dragged home - not strictly within policy but he’s not planning on getting caught - that he barely notices his absence for once.

There’s _nothing_.

All the official documents Ignis can get hold of all state Prompto’s parents as _redacted_ yet Niflheim is presenting to it’s people, to _Prompto_ , that parents are simply not applicable to him.

Ignis can’t stand it.

It’s Prompto’s birthday soon, his 21st and the only gift Ignis can thing to try and give him is better _news_. To undermine the awful, preconceived notions of himself.

There’s a knock on the door of his office and Ignis runs a hand through his hair as he looks up. Nyx is waiting there in the opening, bare but for the smallest of their towels keeping his _intimates_ from view.

It’s lovely and _wonderful_ but Ignis finds himself -

“I don’t know that I’m in the mood, love,” Ignis says.

Nyx smiles, “ _That’s_ not what I’m after actually.”

“For once,” Ignis teases.

“For once,” Nyx echoes. He straightens slightly and holds out his hand, towel precarious with nothing holding up now, “Come on.”

Ignis glances at his desk, the disarray and the frustrating lack of answers, and stands.

Whatever Nyx needs him for has to be more useful that _this_.

Ignis can sense it before he sees it, can feel the damp steam seeping out of the bathroom and just catch the scent Nyx’s luxuriant bath oil in the air. _Spiced vanilla_ the glass bottle says, embossed and highly ornate, arriving several times a year in their mailbox in layers and layers of wrapping to have survived the trip from Galahd.

“Thank you, love,” Ignis says when Nyx pushes the door open and Ignis is greeted by the full bath, candles lit at one ends, thin layer of bubbles skimming the surface of the violet water.

Nyx turns towards him and starts tugging Ignis’ dress shirt free from his pants, unbuttoning it from the bottom up as soon as it’s free.

“I can do that myself,” Ignis chides half-heartedly, working on the buttons from the top.

“But _this way_ you’ll make it into that water while it’s still hot enough to literally melt the skin off your bones.”

“Wimp,” Ignis teases and Nyx leans right in to deliver a rough playful bite to his ear.

Nyx climbs into the water ahead of him, wincing as he sinks into the water that is sure to be _scorching_ hot just the way Ignis like it. Nyx leans back against the foot of the tub, arms spread enticingly along the edges and Ignis suspects this is the fastest he’s ever gotten his trousers off. His glasses clatter noisily against the counter when he tosses them beside the sink.

Ignis steps into the water with a sigh, sinking down gratefully until he’s settled collar deep in the water, nestled up against the firm cushion of Nyx’s chest.

Nyx nuzzles behind his ear and mumbles, “That’s better already.”

“Thank you,” Ignis says again.

Nyx’s arms trail up his arms, fingers needing and pressing into his muscles to help him fully wind down. Nyx presses his thumb right into _that spot_ on his shoulder and Ignis sinks a little further into the water so a little of it spilling over the edge and onto the floor.

Ignis can deal with it later.

“Igs,” Nyx says softly, “You know I’m here.”

Ignis turns his face and presses his nose into the scruff on Nyx’s jaw.

“It _is_ Prompto,” Ignis admits.

Nyx’s hand freezes for a second and then presses down a little firmer on his next pass, like he’s trying to make up for it.

“What on _Eos_ did the kid do?” Nyx asks.

“Nothing,” Ignis sighs, “I’m just concerned.”

Nyx stops his massage to wrap his arms across Ignis’ chest, holding him tight and nuzzling his hair again.

“Did something happen?”

Ignis shakes his head, “Not recently.”

“Iggy,” Nyx says, “Let me help. Tell me what’s going on.”

Ignis hesitates. This will be _more_ of Prompto’s secrets he’s told Nyx and as much as Ignis can argue in his own head that it’s always been for his own good and that Prompto had given him _permission_ even to talk about this particular thing it still feels wrong. Prompto doesn’t even know, not this, not Ignis’ suspicions.

Nyx squeezes him again and Ignis remembers how Nyx has _always_ given him what he needs. He’s never faltered, never betrayed his trust.

Slowly, with Nyx’s lips on his neck and hands on his chest Ignis starts to talk.

~ ~ ~

[Marshal 14:31] Code Violet. House on Lockdown. Secure Night Sky and abandon phone. No contact. Will update when safe.

 _Code Violet_.

Nobody is dead, not yet, but someone had _tried_.

Who is on campus with Noct? Not Nyx, he’s - and Ignis has to swallow down some panic at the thought – at the Citadel. Gladio maybe, he was certainly supposed to be picking him up soon either way.

Ignis turns off his phone and strides into his home office, tossing it to the back of his drawer and pulling out the spare. It's little more than a burner with no incriminating information stored on it.

Ignis memorised all the numbers important to him long ago.

He forgoes texting Gladio; the Shield will have had the same message as him and if he’s not already on campus he's likely already on his way. All he _can_ do is text Noctis and warn him they’re on their way, get him to wait somewhere safe and discreet so they’re not storming into one of his classes and causing a scene.

Part of keeping Noctis safe is ensuring no one knows where they’re taking him, that no one knows they’re even taking him anywhere.

Ignis pulls his car into an empty space in the front lot of the University, next to Gladio’s own vehicle and the moment he steps free of his car he spots them, Gladio's hand on Noct’s shoulder and leading him this way.

Noct looks _furious_. Whispering up at his Shield, whose own face is set in stone, and only moving forward, Ignis suspects, because Gladio is pushing him along.

“I’ll drive,” Gladio says when they arrive.

Ignis goes to argue but snaps his mouth shut. _Gladio_ knows where the safe house is and Ignis does not. Ignis has the phone, Gladio the address. That’s the way things are divided, compartmentalised for extra safety.

“I _hate_ you,” Noct grumbles as Gladio opens the door to the back seat and pushes him inside.

“Noctis,” Ignis chides. Hate is an awfully strong word.

Gladio just shakes his head and says, “I’m not happy with me either.”

“What happened?” Ignis asks, trying to remain calm as he slides in to the passenger seat.

“He took my phone,” Noct snaps.

“He was trying to text Prompto,” Gladio says.

Ignis opens his mouth - _he’d_ like to text Prompto too but they can’t - but Noct starts talking first.

“I can’t believes you don’t _care_.”

Gladio starts the car but they don’t move and Ignis watches his friend clench his hands tightly on the steering wheel.

“Of course I care,” Gladio says softly.

Ignis glances at Noct to watch him _wilt_ in the back of the car.

The prince collapses forward, head presses against the seat Gladio is sitting in, one of his hands snaking round it to squeeze Gladio’s arm.

“He’s going to be so worried,” Noct whispers.

“Where’s Noct’s phone? And yours?” Ignis asks Gladio.

Gladio glances at him and then digs both of them from his pocket, placing them into Ignis’ outstretched palm.

“The Marshal advised I abandon mine,” Ignis says, “I’ll lock these in my car and we can be off.”

-

They arrive at a smallish house in a decent neighbourhood. The Crown keep it clean and Ignis himself arranged the boxes of clothes to fit the three of them to be delivered last year. They won’t be the _height_ of fashion and Gladio may have expanded out of a few of the t-shirts but they’ll all be comfortable enough.

Noctis is the one with the key and he unlocks the door, still quietly seething.

Ignis doesn’t blame him.

Noct's father is directly in the path of harm right now. _Regis_ might already be hurt or Clarus in his place.

Ignis pulls out the phone, hoping for but not expecting an update.

“Someone delivered food,” Gladio says, stooping to pick up the large box as he passes it.

Well that’s one thing sorted at least.

“ _You_ have a phone,” Noctis says.

“It’s for them to sound the all clear on,” Ignis says, “Nothing more.”

Gladio looks at him for a long time and then jerks his head away, opening the box and starting to unpack the contents.

“Ignis -”

“No, Noctis. It’s not safe.”

“Just one message!” Noct all but begs, “Please - Prom’s gonna be so scared and - and no one else is gonna think to check on him.”

“Nyx will,” Ignis argues, “If they let people go Nyx will -”

“You don’t know,” Gladio interrupts.

“Don’t know _what_?”

“My text from Cor said I could _only_ go with you two,” Noct says carefully, “Iggy - it’s the Glaive. They were compromised.”

“Compromised,” Ignis repeats, “You mean -”

“It was one of them, Iggy,” Gladio says, “Whoever attacked Regis was a Glaive. We know it can’t have been Nyx but he's not - but he’s not leaving the Citadel anytime soon.”

Ignis suddenly has to sit down.

Noctis joins him on the coach and wordlessly Ignis presses the phone into his prince's hands.

“Let Gladio check it before you send it,” Ignis says.

“You’re sure?” Gladio says, abandoning the kitchen to join them in the living area.

“It would be prudent to let him know - lest he checks any of the apartments,” Ignis says.

It breaks protocol.

It breaks a hundred rules.

They’re going to do it anyway.

“If they’re targeting the Crown,” Gladio says, “Iggy they might -”

“It’ll be alright,” Ignis says but he can’t possibly promise as much. He stands again, needing to be busy so his brain can't focus on the million things that could hurt him, “You two craft something discreet and I’ll start on dinner.”

-

It’s four am when the phone rings.

Noct has managed to to fall into a fitful sleep and Ignis slips away from where he’d been watching to make sure he’s okay. He and Gladio step into the hallway at the same and Gladio glances at the phone in Ignis’ hand before giving him a nod and taking his place in Noct’s room.

“Marshal?” Ignis says as soon as he’s far enough away.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be awake,” Cor says.

“I think you’ll be able to get hold of either Gladio or I until this has all blown over, sir.”

“Good to know,” Cor says, “I don’t have anything I can tell you. Just a report that everyone is still safe. Full lockdown and every Glaive is being ordered to report in.”

Ignis swallows back a _thousand_ questions and reports, “All is safe here, sir. Though we have some concerns about our friend -”

“Prompto?”

“Yes, sir,” Ignis confirms, “If the people responsible are after leverage…”

“I’ll dispatch some people to keep watch,” Cor says, “We'll dig up a few loyal ones.”

 _Loyal_.

Nyx _can’t_ be involved. He _can’t_ be.

Nyx is the most loyal man he knows, there’s no way he could be involved in a plot to harm the very people he’s loyal to -

Unless it's his _family_ that concocted the idea in the first place.

No.

It's not possible.

“Thank you, sir.”

They’re quiet on the line for a long moment.

“Scientia - Ignis, thank you.”

“Sir?” Ignis says.

“For not asking me to tell you anything you know I can’t,” Cor explains.

“Of course,” Ignis says, “I’ll be available should you need me.”

“Try and get some rest.”

-

Noct is less surly now he’s been able to message Prompto, but he’s taken to pacing nervously through the entirety of downstairs every moment he's awake.

Gladio’s not much better, staring at an open book but not reading. Getting up to peer into the refrigerator or a cupboard and then returning to his seat.

Ignis thinks he’ll arrange for a games console to be delivered to the house, on the off chance they ever need it again.

Though of course, if they ever need it again it’ll be a _different_ house, in a different neighbourhood now that this one is compromised purely by the act of being used just one time.

There’s a TV though, and it’s Ignis that flicks it on in the end, putting on some movie he knows Noctis enjoyed at one point or another. It gets Noct to settle on the couch at least and leaves Ignis to bake his cookies in peace. They don’t have a _tonne_ of options so it’s basic chocolate chip but he’s hoping to get an all clear that means _he’s_ allowed to go to the local market at some point.

That will just depend on whether or not they can establish if they were followed or not.

Gladio will have to stay here with Noctis, of course.

-

Their next update comes through as a simple text.

 _Traitors routed but not secure_.

Which doesn’t really tell them anything.

Ignis checks through their supplies and realises he has everything he needs to make fresh rolls to go with the soup he’s prepared for dinner.

-

Noct’s sleeping on the couch, which makes it a little easier for Ignis to keep an eye on him.

Gladio makes one of his trips around the kitchen, settling himself near where Ignis is rolling out another batch of cookies.

“You already made shortbread,” Gladio tells him.

“This one has lemon zest in it.”

Nyx would like this one, he thinks.

Gladio pats his shoulder lightly, “Fair enough.”

-

Noct’s hand interrupts his on it’s way to the coffee machine.

“You need to sleep,” Noct tells him.

“I’m fine.”

“Iggy,” Noct says, “Please.”

“Gladio is…?”

“Right here,” the Shield says, stepping into view.

“You’ll -”

“Watch Noct,” Gladio says, “Won’t take my eyes off him for a second. Go lay down.”

Ignis wants to argue further, to say he’s not tired and that he can just carry on as he is, but Noct’s eyes are wide and concerned, Gladio’s face pinched and drawn.

He takes the phone from his pocket and passes it to Gladio.

“Wake me if something happens.”

Gladio nods and Ignis steps past him to head upstairs. When he reaches the top step he just makes out -

“Come on Princess lets watch a movie.”

Noct sighs, “Gladio, I’m worried.”

“I know, me too. But your dad will be okay.”

There’s a long beat.

“But what about yours?” Noct asks.

“Try not to think about it,” Gladio says, “They’ll be okay. Come on.”

-

[Marshal 13:22] All clear. Return to Citadel. Someone else will clean up the house.

“That’s it?” Noct snaps, snatching the phone from his hand.

Gladio snorts.

“Lets get back,” Ignis tells him, “Then they can tell us everything.”

“They fucking better,” Noct growls.

-

Gladio has to put his hand on Noct’s shoulder to keep him in his seat. Which shows remarkable restraint on his part considering the news they just got.

“What do you mean _hurt_?”

Cor crosses his arms, “What I said. The King received a minor - mostly superficial wound - during a skirmish. His Shield took the brunt of the blow but is also mostly unharmed.”

“Cor -” Gladio starts, “Is he -”

“Fine,” Cor reassures, softening a little, “His leg will take some recovery but he shouldn’t lose any function. They both just need some bed rest. Neither of them have slept much the past few days.”

“A lot of that going around,” Gladio mutters.

“Can we go see them?” Noct asks.

“They’re together upstairs,” Cor says, “Go up and I’ll give a full debriefing later.”

 _Later_.

Ignis doesn’t want to wait until later, he wants to know if Nyx is okay _now_. He wants to _see_ Nyx now, to touch him and hold him and be told that everything is okay.

“Iggy?” Gladio says, “You coming?”

Gladio and Noct are already by the door, eager to see their fathers and Ignis stands from his chair only a little stiffly and follows on wooden legs. Gladio squeezes his shoulder as he comes to their side. Regis and Clarus are Ignis' family too.

“We’ll hunt down Nyx right after this,” Gladio promises, “Go get our phones and get you home. He’s probably at the apartment waiting for you.”

Noct squeezes his hand, “Dad will want to see you.”

“And I him,” Ignis assures them, “Lets get upstairs.”

Both Regis and Clarus are in the King’s private chambers. Regis sitting up against his headboard and Clarus in a high-backed armchair next to it. Both look _tired_ but with the exception of Clarus’ leg being elevated on a footstool and obviously bandaged they don’t seem to be in too poor a condition.

“Ah, my boys,” Regis says and Noct _freezes_ for a split second before rushing forward and flinging himself at his father. Regis puts his arms around his son and pats his hair.

Noct says something muffled against his father that Ignis can’t quite work out but he hears it clear as day when Regis says, “Shh, it’s alright now.”

Gladio moves past Ignis, hastening to his father’s side where he crouches beside the armchair he’s resting on. Clarus puts his hand on his sons shoulder and Gladio covers it with his own.

 _They’re okay_.

Ignis tries to bury down the lingering sense of dread of not knowing, the anxiety around still not having his phone, of not being able to put his eyes and his hands on Nyx in some way.

Ignis doesn’t doubt Nyx, not his loyalty. But what if he'd been _hurt_. He could have been surrounded and pinned down with no one fighting on his side.

“Ignis,” the King says, calling him closer.

Ignis’ legs carry him over automatically.

Regis reaches for his hand, squeezing affectionately through the leather, “Ignis, son. Thank you for taking extra care of Noctis these past days.”

“Sire,” Ignis says, bowing gently towards the closest things he’s ever had to a real father, “It’s an honour and a privilege as it always has been.”

Noct shifts his face out of his fathers chest, eyes red but dry, and offers Ignis a shy smile. Ignis reaches to add his spare hand alongside the Kings in Noct’s hair and his friend's smile stretches a little wider.

“You all make me very proud,” the King says, “Gladiolus, perhaps _you_ can convince your father to rest in a real bed.”

Gladio laughs, “For sure, come on old man.”

Gladio straightens up, reaching for his fathers arm. Clarus locks his shoulders and stays firmly in place.

“Regis,” Clarus sighs, “It’s my _job_ to stay with you. I _want_ to stay with you.”

“I am perfectly safe now,” Regis assures him, “The only thing bothering me is that _you_ are not taking care of yourself.”

Clarus huffs but still doesn’t let himself be pulled to his feet.

“Dad,” Gladio presses, “Come on.”

“Shall I have the room next door prepared, sirs?” Ignis offers, wondering if this compromise may be a way to make both of them happy.

“Someone else can arrange it Ignis,” Regis says, “But I think that’s the best idea.”

“Will you be staying here tonight, Noct?”

Noct nods, pulling himself more comfortably onto the bed beside his father, keeping himself close with a head on his shoulder. Regis looks fond and pleased, smiling broadly when Noct does not fuss away from kiss his drops against his forehead. Ignis suspects he’ll spend the night more or less in that exactly place he is in now.

Ignis _still_ wants to rush home and find Nyx, but he knows it'll be his responsibility to arrange food for everyone first.

Nyx will either be there, whole and happy and healthy, or he won’t. Rushing won’t change that.

The five of them turn at once when there is a light tap on the door.

And there he is, looking barely ruffled in his full uniform with not a hair out of place.

 _Nyx_.

He bows the moment he’s through the door, reverent and formal as he addresses his King.

“I did as you asked, Your Majesty,” Nyx says, “Scientia’s car is in the garage and I have their phones right here.”

 _Scientia_.

It shouldn’t hurt. He’s doing it to make _Ignis_ comfortable. Nyx would like to walk down the halls holding hands, to officially register his home address as Ignis’ apartment. Their discretion is not Nyx’s desire and yet -

After _this_ separation.

After all the worry - it’s too much and not enough.

“Thank you Ulric,” Regis says warmly, “For this and everything else.”

Nyx bows again and Noct pulls away from his father, rushing towards Nyx, “I’m going to call Prompto.”

“Better be quick he has class in eight minutes,” Gladio puts in, “Tell him I’ll call after -”

“Forgive me,” Ignis says and he gifts Regis a bow of his own before turning on his heel and striding for the door.

“Iggy -”

Ignis walks, striding away, almost blinded by the emotion building inside him.

He’s so _relieved_. Exhausted and drawn thin after two days on a handful of sleep. He’d been so _sure_ something had happened. To Regis or Clarus.

To Nyx.

That his lover, loyal to a fault, would have found himself in a position defending his King from his _friends_ and unable to bring himself to really hurt them.

Ignis hadn’t known what he would have done _had_ something happened.

Nyx is his _home_. His one solid anchor in a world where he _looks_ like he has all the control but often has _none_.

Ignis blinks, eyes embarrassingly damp and he rushes through the closest door, shoving himself into a storage cupboard, musty smelling and lit only by the morning light filtering through the narrow window at the top of the wall.

There’s a rising feeling in his chest, creeping to his throat and threatening to completely strangle him.

Ignis throws the door shut behind him but it never catches, it never closes with the _snap_ he’s expecting.

“Iggy,” Nyx says and the door does click shut then.

Ignis breathes deep and expels it slowly.

“Igs,” Nyx says and his hand smooths over Ignis’ shoulder.

Ignis spins around, pressing his face straight into the skin of Nyx’s throat.

His shoulders tremble as Nyx wraps his arms around them, holding him tight and secure against his chest.

“Hey, hey,” Nyx whispers and Ignis _sobs_.

Ignis doesn’t remember the last time he cried. Doesn’t remember the last time he felt safe and comfortable enough to even entertain the though that he _could_.

He’s so _relieved_.

Noctis is safe, Regis and Clarus are _barely_ hurt and Nyx is _here_.

Nyx doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move except to turn his face into Ignis’ hair. Nyx just stands there and holds Ignis as he dampens the collar of his Kingsglaive coat.

Ignis isn’t used to seeing Nyx _in_ that coat. He’s used to it being draped across the back of his couch and tucked around him when he falls asleep at his desk. The fabric is grounding and familiar against his skin, however, and both it and Nyx smell faintly of the Glaive’s exotic cologne.

Ignis clenches his hand in the fabric, somehow managing to press himself even closer to his boyfriend.

“Are you alright?” he manages to choke out.

Nyx hums, “Of course I am.”

Ignis shifts his head a little, aware his face is damp but desperate to brush his lips over the steady, even thrum of Nyx’s pulse.

“What did you think was going to happen to me?” Nyx asks, “You thought I was gonna let some asshole hurt any of the things you care about?”

Ignis sniffs, “As long as you include _yourself_ in that list.”

Nyx presses his face a little harder into Ignis’ hair.

“So you _would_ miss me if I was gone,” he teases.

Ignis rolls his eyes.

He still wants to go home.

Just - in a minute.

In a minute.

~ ~ ~

All talked out, Ignis turns slightly in bath so he can nose against Nyx’s jaw. He’s unshaven as always and Ignis drags his own skin against it, sighing softly as the feeling shivers through him. He slides his hand across Nyx’s chest to palm down between his hips.

“I thought you weren’t in the mood?” Nyx teases.

“You’ve rather convinced me around.”

Nyx snorts, “By being completely silent and still?”

“Yes,” Ignis says, “It was a wonderful change of pace.”

Nyx slaps down hard on the now only _warm_ water and his rushes up in a wave over Ignis’ back and shoulders, some more of it splashing over the edge and onto the floor.

Ignis finds that he doesn’t care. _Again_.

Nyx kisses the corner of his mouth, “What do you want?”

“Take me to bed,” Ignis says immediately.

Nyx pulls back with one eyebrow cocked.

He looks _surprised_ and maybe he should be - Ignis isn’t normally in the mood to be _taken_ anywhere when he’s feeling like _this._ But today there’s something in him that just wants to be cared for - a part of him that wants Nyx to continue taking care of him just like he is now.

Nyx presses a fleeting kiss to his mouth and says, “Up then.”

Ignis scoots forward and Nyx is up before he can blink, stepping out of the bath in a shower of warm water.

“No need to make a mess,” Ignis chides.

Nyx gives himself a perfunctory pat down with a towel and then tosses it into the laundry basket, grabbing a fresh one and rushing at Ignis as he steps free of the tub. Ignis glances down at the water on the floor but any plans to derail it are scuppered when Nyx drapes the towel around his shoulders.

“I can manage,” Ignis tells him.

“Sure,” Nyx says and then he’s bending down enough to knock Ignis’ legs out at the knees and scoop him into his arms.

Ignis slaps his chest, “Brute.”

“Uh huh, you _hate_ being manhandled.”

Nyx _tosses_ him down on bed, pulling the towel free from underneath him and using it to wipe the water droplets from his legs.

Satisfied with his work Nyx throws the towel away and after a pitstop at his bedside table climbs onto the bed between Ignis’ thighs, hooking on knee up over his shoulder and trailing his fingertips feather soft down the inside of his thigh.

Ignis’ breath hitches.

Nyx kisses the inside of his knee and trails his fingers back up towards it, ticklish and arousing all at once.

Nyx stares down at him as he passes his fingers up and down, eyes intense and focused until Ignis can’t help but _squirm_ under the attention.

“There it is,” Nyx murmurs and pushes Ignis’ thigh to one side, opening him up and following the next down stroke of his fingers with his lips.

Ignis sighs as Nyx mouths around his hip, palms his thighs and noses his arousal.

Nyx’s mouth closes around the head of Ignis' cock and his hands slip away. Ignis threads his fingers through Nyx’s hair, thumb rubbing against the shaves sides, extra soft after a fresh cut.

There’s a rustle and a click and then more of the same spiced vanilla scent from in the bath spreads through the air. Ignis tenses in anticipation.

It’s expensive, imported alongside the bath oil and Nyx only brings out this particular bedroom aid when he wants to _pamper_ Ignis. Nyx might use it all the time but Ignis won’t let him, he can’t bring himself to allow an indulgence of the sort almost every single day.

Ignis deserves it, Nyx always says, but Ignis isn't so sure.

When Nyx’s hands find his thighs again they’re slick and warm, sliding and pressing and massaging along the tight muscles in Ignis’ thighs. Ignis moans just as a little as he sinks deeper into the bedspread and Nyx takes him further into his mouth, spreading his mouth eagerly.

Nyx works him slowly boneless, slick hand slipping further between his thighs to tease and stretch and _play_. Work Ignis open and ready for more of Nyx’s touch. Ignis writhes on the bed the whole time, pushing himself further into Nyx’s mouth as his boyfriend lets him chase his pleasure against his hands and tongue.

Ignis half wishes he still had his glasses on so the vision of Nyx between his thighs - mouth spread and damp, blue eyes dark and enticing - would be picture perfect quality in his mind.

Ignis twists his fingers in Nyx’s hair a little harsher and gives a tug that he hopes reads as playful. Whether he's successful or not it makes Nyx to pop up off his dick. He moves up Ignis’ body with rough biting kisses and followed by a warm hand, still slick with scented oil. It tingles against Ignis' chest, pleasant and hypersensitive.

“Getting impatient are we?” Nyx teases.

Ignis simply pulls him in fro a kiss, fusing their mouths tightly together as he anchors Nyx to him with his legs.

“Hasty, hasty,” Nyx chides, as he so often does.

Ignis feels a bubble of shame in his chest, for being impatient, for being _needy._

Nyx pulls back a little, the few inches Ignis’ legs will allow and his eyes flit over Ignis’ face. Braced on one forearm Nyx hastily wipes a palm across the bed spread so only the faintest scent of the oil remains when Nyx reaches to push Ignis’ hair back.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” Ignis says quickly.

Nyx kisses his nose, “You know I love you. Especially when you’re needy.”

“I love you too,” Ignis says, finger bruising into Nyx’s biceps as he drags him close enough to kiss again.

The bubble of shame pops, vanishes like it had never been there in the first place.

“We can stop,” Nyx murmurs against his mouth.

Ignis latches his legs even tighter.

“Don’t you dare,” Ignis snaps.

Alarmingly Nyx _still_ tries to pull away and Ignis _growls_ , nails biting into his skin this time.

Nyx chuckles and rolls his length into the dip of Ignis’ hip, rutting against him. Ignis exhales through his nose, eyelids fluttering as he reluctantly lets him up.

Nyx softens the shock of the departure by kissing across his shoulder as he pulls back. It’s something between a tap and a slap that lands on Ignis’ hip, Nyx suddenly pressing both his thighs together and rolling him halfway so only his shoulders remain flat against the bed.

“Nyx,” he murmurs, “Please.”

Nyx scrambles around the bed again and Ignis waits for the glass rattle of the bottle, the soft _spurt_ that signals he’s about to get what he wants.

His lover crowds against Ignis’ back, hip to hip, and there’s barely a breath before Nyx is pressing against his entrance and sliding home, thick and hot and all consuming. Ignis arches back into it, not letting either of them hesitate or wait to be completely joined. Nyx’s hips sit flush against his ass and his mouth comes close to his ear, breath hot and panting already.

“You feel amazing you know that,” Nyx pants and he draws his hips back to push roughly back inside, starting up a heavy pace that kills Ignis’ retort in his throat.

Nyx swings one of his legs over Ignis’, planting it against the bed for leverage as he thrusts into him, hand on Ignis’ waist to hold him steady and still. One of Ignis’ hands fly up, slapping onto the thigh covering his own as Nyx takes him apart with the movement of his hips.

“Gods I love looking at you,” Nyx mumbles.

“Nyx,” Ignis groans.

Its a strange reversal, sweet words with a pounding rhythm. Usually Nyx works him apart slowly, fucks him gently and sweetly while whispering _filth_ in hie ear, the type of thing that would make Ignis’ composure crack, flush his cheeks pink in a room full of people.

Nyx’s hand leaves his waist and carefully extracts Ignis’ from his thigh. At first Ignis thinks he must be hurting his boyfriend but all Nyx does is redirect that hand to Ignis’ cock, wrap the long fingers around Ignis’ desperately leaking cock and whisper, “Let me see.”

“Gods, you -” Ignis starts and cuts off.

“Think you’re beautiful? Want to watch you fall apart in my arms?” Nyx says with a barest hint of a teasing lilt, “Yeah I do, Iggy. I really do.”

Nyx releases his hand and under some kind of spell Ignis starts to move his hand, stroking his cock with the dampness gathered around the tip, working himself mercilessly along the jagged edge of his pleasure. Nyx presses his palm low down on Ignis’ belly, sneaking it behind where Ignis is working his cock.

Ignis will never know if he _actually_ feels fuller when Nyx does this or if it’s just a tantalising fantasy his mind clutches desperately on to each time. But suddenly he’s so _full_ , spread achingly wide around his favourite thing and just the _idea_ of it is enough to have his pleasure build terrifyingly fast. Pull the tight coil of his release tighter and tighter, one perfect shift or stroke away from snapping and spilling over.

“That’s it,” Nyx murmurs, hot breath washing over his ear again, “That’s it, baby, you’re _so good_.”

Ignis comes in a rush of wet mess over his own torso and Nyx’s hand immediately sweeps up through it, pinning Ignis’ chest down instead as his hips immediately falter, rough short stabs that rip a gravelled shout right from his chest as he too twitches and comes. Ignis is _so full_ , in desperate need of another bath but blanketed in consuming desire to just stay covered inside and out with the feel of Nyx’s desire and care.

Nyx pulls his leg back, sliding free at the same time and Ignis gives a little gasp turning his face and being met with the gentle kiss he was seeking.

“I meant it,” Nyx says, “I wasn’t just cock dumb because you had me on the edge, I meant what I said.”

“Hmm?” Ignis remembers everything Nyx told him, it’ll be a sad day if he ever forgets but he’s certainly not sensible enough right now to decipher Nyx’s meaning.

“That you’re good,” Nyx reiterates, “You’re _so_ _good_.”

Ignis smiles sleepily, without function enough to argue against him.

Nyx kisses his cheek, “And to prove it I’ll run you another bath.”

“I love you,” Ignis says immediately.

\- - -

[Official Masseuse 07:21] I’m going to text you once an hour to get up and stretch <3

[Ignis 07:27] You’re the most lovable kind of nag.

\- - -

“It’s Blondie’s birthday this week, right?” Nyx asks him.

“On Tuesday,” Ignis asks, “I thought you might bring the two of them from school to the Citadel after their classes.”

Nyx pulls a folded piece of paper out from his pocket and turns it over in his hands a few times.

“The Citadel doesn’t seem like Prom’s _top choice_ of party locales,” Nyx muses.

“Luna’s still confined to the Citadel,” Ignis says and they roll their eyes in perfect sync, “And Prompto’s ever the people pleaser.”

Ignis thinks he should still enjoy himself, the assembly of people there to celebrate _him_ and his continued existence may go a long way to soothe the uncertainty he still carries around the Crown property.

The food will be exceptional, at least, if Ignis has anything to do with it.

“So I figured we could make these for him,” Nyx says.

He passes Ignis the paper and Ignis unfolds it with gloved hands.

Ignis looks up at his boyfriend.

“This is -”

Nyx shrugs.

“Let me get this straight,” Ignis says mockingly serious, “I’ve been asking for this recipe for _two years_ and the thing that makes you give in is Prompto’s birthday.”

“Uh huh,” Nyx says, “Kid deserves something nice.”

Ignis smiles and sets the recipe down.

He’d be _hurt_ but he knows part of Nyx’s reticence in handing the recipe over is in losing the opportunity to do this _for_ him. That giving up the information is giving up one of the many ways he likes to dote on his lover.

If he hadn’t known Nyx was _attached_ to Prompto already then this would have confirmed it.

\- - -

Ignis finds it.

The key to unravelling Prompto's mystery.

In an old forgotten file is a small note about information being locked behind a security code - a fathomless string of numbers and letters that it takes Ignis the better part of a day to unravel. It’s an old _system_ , retired not long after this very thing was locked away behind it.

There are three people with the power to grant Ignis access to the information.

The King.

His Shield.

And the one that had unearthed the information to start with, who had lifted eight year old Prompto straight out of the hell he was living in.

The person that had made the decision to lock the information away.

The Marshal.

\- - -

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:21] Prompto’s been taking pictures of the same tree for seventeen minutes now.

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:22] How is Noct not bored yet?

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:25] Don’t answer that, I already know the answer.

[Ignis 11:35] I’m sure they’ll be wonderful pictures.

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:37] For sure. Do I have the Crowns permission to eat with them at the pizza place or do I need to wait by the door?

[Ignis 11:38] You can sit inside, just this once.

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:40] <3 <3

Ignis 11:41] This name change is your most ridiculous yet. Just so you know.

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:42] <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[Galahd’s Finest Export 11:42] (Its true though.)

\- - -

Ignis stands straight backed outside the Marshal’s office, folder clutched tightly in his hands.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nyx asks, standing as close as he can without triggering Ignis’ dislike of PDA.

Ignis loves him for it.

Of course Ignis is sure, this is the only thing he’s been thinking about for _weeks_.

Solstice is right around the corner, Prompto’s life is about to change for the better with Gladio's impending invitation to move in. Ignis suspects whatever he’s about to discover won’t exactly be happy there’s a feeling in his gut - a gut he’s always trusted - that just this little bit of _closure_ might go a long way for the blond.

Ignis offers Nyx a nod and his lover smiles encouragingly. Squaring his shoulders so he’s standing tall and proud Ignis steps forward to knock, waiting patiently to be called inside.

“Ignis,” Cor says in surprise, “What can I do for you?”

“If I may be so bold, sir, I’d quite like the truth.”

Cor blinks and puts down the pen in his hand.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever lied to you -”

“About Prompto,” Ignis says, “About where he came from.”

Cor sighs, passing his palm over his face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t look in to that,” Cor admits, “Come sit down.”

Ignis does, folding himself into the straight backed chair in front of The Marshall’s desk. Ignis puts the folder down on the wooden surface but Cor doesn’t pick it up.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Cor says, “But the only person that can tell you is Prompto. I won’t betray him like that.”

Ignis wasn’t quite expecting _that_.

“Prompto _has_ told me,” Ignis says, “But it’s not _right_.”

Cor exhales roughly and reaches for the folder.

On top is a print out from that gods forsaken website with all the _faulty_ information viciously circled several times over with Ignis’ favourite red pen.

Cor doesn’t move past that first page and Ignis watches as his face darkens and his eyebrows draw closer together the longer he looks at it.

“This is all Prompto knows?” Cor grits out.

“Yes.”

Cor sinks forwards, elbows on his desk as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“When did the war end Ignis?”

Ignis tilts his head, “Twenty-two years this spring.”

Ignis is _slightly_ older than the peace between Lucis and Niflheim, but only by a single year. Noctis has never known anything but peace, thankfully, though somehow that makes what happened to Prompto all the _worse_.

Raised in a facility to become a soldier for what? A war that was long lost? An uprising destined to fall just as soon as it started.

“Probably shouldn’t start another one,” Cor mutters and a surprised laugh bursts out of Ignis.

Cor drops the file again, opens a draw in his desk to retrieve a key and then spins his chair around so he can open one of the many locked cabinets behind his desk.

What he retrieves isn’t particularly thick, just a simple folder, slightly discoloured with age and secured at the top with an old fashioned bulldog clip. Cor pulls the clip off before handing it over.

“I never intended that Prompto wouldn’t know,” Cor explains, “If _I’d_ known -”

He cuts off as Ignis flips it open, eyes scanning immediately for the pertinent informations.

“Oh.”

“Better or worse than you thought?” Cor asks wryly.

“I can’t say it’s _better_ ,” Ignis muses aloud, “Just _different_.”

“You have clearance to tell him,” Cor says, “I’ll make sure all the paperwork is official.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Cor flicks his wrist and looks at his watch.

“Let me get Monica down here, we’ll all have lunch and we’ll - we’ll tell you what happened. On the way out of Niflheim.”

\- - -

Prompto crouches down beside the counter, eyes level with the pastry dough he’s rolling out - trying to ascertain if it’s an even thickness, Ignis supposes.

Ignis laughs, “There’s no need to be _that_ precise, dear.”

Prompto startles and stands up, lightly flushed but also with a pleased little smile on his face.

Ignis hasn’t told him yet. He’s not been _able_ to tell him, not now, not this side of the holiday. This is going to be Prompto’s first year _really_ celebrating Solstice in a way that his friends would even recognise as a celebration.

“I don’t want it to be worse than if you’d done it alone,” Prompto says.

They have a large portion of the kitchen to themselves, the kitchen staff knowing well enough that Ignis likes plenty of space to work in the lead up to Solstice.

All the time really, but especially before Solstice.

“I tried to look up some traditional Gralean things for you,” Ignis explains as he sorts through his cutters for the right one, “But you really don’t seem to have anything that doesn’t sound truly disgusting.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose, “And even if there were I wouldn’t remember them anyway.”

“Please don’t tell me they fed you _tripe_ ,” Ignis playfully begs.

Prompto’s nose wrinkle gets more extreme, “If they did they _never_ told me.” And then he laughs, his cheerful little bubble of noise that brightens any room he’s in.

Maybe Ignis _could_ do it now, maybe the cushion of the upcoming Solstice party and a morning at the Amicitia’s would help Prompto come out the other side of this news still able to smile.

 _Maybe_.

But not _definitely_.

Ignis hands the cutter over to Prompto and buries down the knowledge that the cause of Prompto’s childhood torment and his father are one in the same.

\- - -

Ignis pushes the folder towards Nyx without looking at him.

It took him some time to come to terms with sharing the information, his need to share this burden with someone else yet unable to share it with the person that perhaps needs to hear it the most.

“Are you sure?” Nyx says, “And I don’t just mean me, I mean Prompto - are you sure he _needs_ to know.”

“Yes,” Ignis says at once. He finally looks up and Nyx’s eyebrows are drawn tight over his eyes.

Nyx inhales and flips open the folder but doesn’t look down.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not the worst of my theories,” Ignis confirms remembering how he’d set loose the tumult of thoughts in that glorious bath several months ago.

Nyx glances down and his eyes widen.

_Father: Verstael Besithia_

_Mother: Emilie Tummelt_

“Wow,” Nyx says, “Poor kid.”

“Could be better,” Ignis says bitterly.

“It could be _worse_ ,” Nyx points out, “This means he’s safe right? This guy is dead and Niflheim want to pretend he never existed so he’s _safe_. We have him here and we’re not letting him go.”

Ignis exhales a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding on to and says, “You’re right.”

“Usually works out that way,” Nyx says.

“I should tell him shouldn’t I? Right away. Stop being a coward.”

Nyx reaches across the table to take his hands, “First of all there’s nothing cowardly about you. Secondly yes and no. Yes you should tell him but no, you shouldn’t do it right away.”

“I _should_ let him enjoy the holiday,” Ignis says.

“Let him get a one good one under his belt.”

Ignis squeezes his hands and tentatively asks, “Will you help me?”

“Of course I will.”

Of course he will.

\- - -

“Certain moments excluded that was actually a pretty good party,” Nyx murmurs.

Now they're alone Nyx slides himself closer, unbuttoning Ignis’ suit jacket to slip his hand beneath, palming Ignis’ belly through his shirt.

“Must have been nice to experience it away from the doorway for a change,” Ignis says leaning some of his weight into Nyx as the elevator climbs.

“Shame there was no dancing,” Nyx muses.

Ignis laughs, “Noct would never allow it - he’d cancel Solstice before letting his father force him to dance.”

Nyx squeezes him tighter.

“Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much with Luna around,” Nyx mumbles, “Or Prompto.”

Ignis elbows him playful just as the elevator stops and the doors slide open with a bright _ding_.

“Don’t tease,” Ignis says and he regretfully pulls away so they can head to his assigned quarters.

It’s the same room Ignis has been sleeping in on and off his entire life, though it’s never really felt like home. His own apartment finally got there, after Nyx finally moved all his things in and he has a kind of comfortable familiarity with both Noct’s apartment and Gladio’s family manor.

It doesn’t feel so empty now though, not with Nyx following close behind him with a hand on the small of his back.

Not when Nyx barely lets the door close behind them before he’s turning Ignis around to kiss him.

Ignis moves under his hands, allows himself to be pulled closer and up onto his toes - fights back only by tucking one gloved hand under the collar of Nyx’s open collar and burying the other in his hair.

Nyx shudders gently, walking them further in to the apartment, stopping them abruptly to run his hands up Ignis’ back and to his shoulders so he can start to push his jacket off. Ignis has to release his hold on Nyx to allow it but Nyx’s hands a warm against him when it’s gone. Ignis kisses to the corner of Nyx’s mouth and along the freshly trimmed scruff on his jaw.

Nyx’s hands find his buttons and Ignis, wanting to help things along pulls back from Nyx’s throat to find the fastening of his gloves with his teeth.

“Wait,” Nyx says, hand grabbing his wrist and pulling it away from his mouth. Nyx kisses a few of his fingers and then applies the pressure of his teeth against his littlest one, barely perceptible through the leather.

Ignis arches an eyebrow.

“Leave them on,” Nyx says - asks really, a request rather than an order.

Ignis takes half a step back.

“Take off your suit,” Ignis tells him and he tugs his wrist free of Nyx’s hand to work on his shirt buttons.

Nyx strips haphazardly, kicking his shoes off under the coffee table and his clothes spreading across several pieces of furniture. Ignis only removes his shirt, lining his shoes up neatly by the wall. Part of him wants to reprimand Nyx, demand the Glaive tidies up his belongings and folds he suit carefully away but when he pulls his boxers down his thighs and reveals the hard just of his cock and Ignis finds he doesn’t have the patience.

Ignis unbuttons his own pants as he steps up to him again, just for a little breathing room.

Ignis runs his hands along Nyx’s collarbones and down his chest with barely a glancing touch against Nyx’s nipples. Nyx rests one of his hands against Ignis’ bare waist and he pauses on his way to kiss Nyx’s chest to clear his throat.

Nyx inhales softly and the hand falls away.

Good. He remembers.

Ignis presses his lips to Nyx’s skin, above the hair on his chest and digs his fingers a little firmer so they really do _drag_ back up his torso.

Ignis kisses a line down Nyx’s torso, slowly sinking to his knees. He thumbs over the metal bar decorating Nyx’s chest and then pulls his hands back down. There’s something specific about the way leather catches against his body hair, the way it makes his smooth movements stutter _just so_.

Ignis would prefer to be able to _feel_ Nyx’s skin, of course, but there’s something about being mostly dressed and having Nyx bare and vulnerable before him that straightens Ignis’ spine with a new steel rod and thrills him to his very core.

Ignis explores Nyx’s powerful thighs with his hands, kissing a line back and forth between his hips, the muscles of his lower abdomen clenching under his ministrations.

Nyx is good, so good, staying still and mostly quiet as Ignis teases him. He breaks only when Ignis suddenly takes him in hand and suckles at his tip. Nyx gasps quietly one hand flying out to cup the back of Ignis’ head. There’s no pressure, no needy push to get him further down oreager tug at the strands of his hair. It's just a simple touch almost reverent in its simplicity.

Ignis still stops, slowly backing up so his mouth pops free.

“Shit,” Nyx mutters and his hand falls away again.

Ignis rewards him with a single stroke of his hand, dragging the leather up to Nyx’s tip and then back down again.

Perhaps they’ll ruin these gloves.

Perhaps Ignis wouldn’t even mind.

Ignis takes him back in his mouth, steadily sliding all the way down until his hand is forced back on to Nyx’s hip where he flexes his fingers to remind Nyx what _exactly_ is happening. Nyx makes a soft sound as Ignis works his length, mouth teasing and firm in equal measure.

Ignis trails one of his hands back up Nyx’s torso so he can thumb over the bar through his nipple, press down until Nyx _gasps_.

The thigh under his other hand _twitches_ and Ignis would smile if his mouth wasn’t full.

“Iggy,” Nyx says.

Ignis swallows around him, pulling back just enough toy at his head with a pointed tongue.

“I’m gonna -” Nyx moans, “Should we go to be bedroom.”

Ignis pops off again and says, “No.”

Ignis strokes him with his hand again, the slide of the leather _different_ now that Nyx’s length is damp.

Nyx looks away for the first time since he started, head tilted to the ceiling as though in a prayer.

Ignis takes the opportunity to get back to work sliding back down and pressing forward until Nyx is edging his throat. Ignis braces himself with both hands on Nyx’s ass to help him move faster, more urgently now he knows he’s chasing Nyx’s relief.

He’s rock hard in his own pants, uncomfortable and impossibly turned on but it’s not his own peak he’s craving but Nyx’s. Wants to pull his lover apart with nothing but his mouth and his fanciest leather gloves.

Ignis can take care of himself afterwards, can maybe convince Nyx into helping him, see if his lover will let Ignis seek his pleasure in the warmth of his body. Maybe he'll work the Nyx open slowly and carefully to give him time to be up and ready to go once more.

“Fuck,” Nyx groans with a barely noticeable roll of his hips and Ignis is rewarded with the first bitter spurt against his tongue.

Ignis moves Nyx only to his mouth, freeing the bottom third of his dick up for his hand. Ignis encircles it with his thumb and forefinger, stroking in time with the pace of his mouth.

Nyx stays remarkably quite, just another muffled curse, but is unable to keep his hands to himself, one clenching around Ignis shoulder to brace himself and the other petting over the back of his head over and over as he trembles his release into Ignis’ mouth.

Ignis cleans him diligently, dropping his hand carefully and giving Nyx’s softening dick one last little kiss before dropping back to rest against his feet.

“Can I take off my gloves now?” Ignis teases and Nyx sinks right down onto the floor to kiss him senseless.

\- - -

“Grab your leather jacket,” Nyx says coming to lean in the door to the bedroom as Ignis pulls on his gloves.

“I don’t own a leather jacket,” Ignis says.

Nyx raises his eyebrows, “Funny. Because a long time ago, when I was still chasing tail, I owned two jackets. And then one day I was lucky enough to invite this guy - really great, gorgeous, legs almost as high as his IQ – ” Nyx shakes his head like he's chasing away an errant thought, “Anyway. I invited this guy onto my bike and he wore the jacket and I never got it back.”

“Well, that gentleman seems to have excellent taste at least,” Ignis says, “Though I do hope his attention was worth losing the affections of this _tail_ you speak of.”

Nyx smirks, “Oh absolutely. He's the best tail I ever had.”

Ignis rolls his eyes.

“Why do I need your jacket?”

“We’re going for a ride,” Nyx says.

“To where?”

Nyx shrugs, “Anywhere.”

Ignis stares at him and Nyx sighs.

“When was the last time I had you on my bike?”

Ignis thinks.

It was _a long_ time ago. Before spring had turned to summer for sure, so a long time before _now_ two days after Solstice where the ground had been littered with snow.

“Too long,” Ignis says.

“Exactly.”

Ignis goes to dig the jacket out from where it's hidden safely in his closet.

\- - -

Nyx kisses his cheek and rubs his back.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

Ignis nods and reaches out to tap a short rhythm against Gladio’s front door. Gladio _and_ Prompto’s front door now, even if the blond isn’t all moved in yet.

Prompto beams at the sight of them, “Hey guys.”

They enter when Prompto steps back to make room and Rosie rushes at them while they’re still technically in the doorway, nails clicking noisily against the wooden flooring as she scampers for all the attention at once.

“Gladio won’t be back for a couple hours,” Prompto adds sounding almost apologetic about the fact.

Like Ignis and Nyx couldn’t possibly want to spend time with just him.

“No matter,” Ignis says, trying his best for a natural smile, “I actually came to see you.”

Prompto looks at him fully then eyes darting to folder tucked under Ignis’ arm and snapping back up to Ignis’ face. Ignis watches his face go curiously blank, like Prompto’s trying extra hard _not_ to express how he’s feeling.

“Can I take Rosie for a walk while you chat?” Nyx suggests, just as they’d planned. Ignis wants Nyx nearby, in case he or Prompto need him but not actually _with_ them so as not to overwhelm their friend. Rosie would perhaps help him calm down, but she’s so in tune with Prompto’s emotions he’s likely to get _more_ upset when he she inevitably reacts to his stress.

Rosie looks up happily at the sound of her name and sits perfectly still as Prompto gets her into her harness and sets up Nyx with everything he’ll need to walk her. Ignis follows them to the front door while Prompto gets them both water.

“Thanks, love,” Ignis tells him.

“Text if you need us back,” Nyx reminds him, giving him a warm kiss on the cheek.

Prompto almost throws himself down on the couch beside him.

“You can’t get me citizenship, can you?” Prompto blurts.

That’s not an _unintuitive_ conclusion.

“I certainly can,” Ignis reassures - perhaps the last comforting thing he’ll say today, “But you’re a special circumstance and it’s taking extra time.”

“Because of how I was made, right?”

He says it so _succinctly_ that Ignis _flinches_ and struggles to find his voice.

“Iggy, are you okay?”

“I need to tell you something,” Ignis says rather than answering, “I’ve been putting it off because I don’t want to upset you but I think you need to know and it’s certainly not okay that I know and you do not.”

Prompto’s face almost folds under the weight of his worry.

“Iggy…”

“The information listed about you on that Gods forsaken database is wrong.”

Prompto visibly flounders for a moment and then he says, “I don’t understand.”

“When you came to me to tell me about your past you said something in particular that stuck with me,” Ignis explains, bolstering himself with a deep breath, “Because it didn’t match up with information about you that I already have.”

“Because of my background check?” Prompto asks.

“Yes,” Ignis says breaking open the folder, “You told me - showed me that the database indicates you as having not had any parents at all. Ever. When I knew -”

Ignis hands him his original background check, the one which says _Redacted_ instead of that horrendous term _Not Applicable_.

“Redacted,” Prompto breathes and his eyes snap up to Ignis’ - wide and hopeful, “Does that mean - that means the information was there but it’s been hidden, right?”

Ignis nods and Prompto jumps to his feet.

“So I have -” Prompto tries, voice cracking “- I have parents.”

Ignis nods.

Prompto starts pacing in the gap between the couch and the coffee table.

“How do I - Iggy you have to help me find out who they are - why did they hide it, what’s wrong?”

“Prompto, please,” Ignis says shakily. He thought he had been prepared for the force of Prompto’s emotion but apparently he was mistaken, “I already - I managed to find the information. Please.”

Prompto takes one deep breath and then settles beside him again, closer than he had been before. It feels quite natural for Ignis to place his hand between Prompto’s shoulder blades in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

“Where did you find it?” Prompto whispers.

“The Marshal had it,” Ignis tells him, “I believe he and Monica thought it best to keep this part of you private. They thought the truth would only be a disadvantage to you.”

“So it’s their fault I -”

Prompto shudders and Ignis rubs his back with a little more pressure.

He rushes to defend his superiors, “They weren’t happy with how Niflheim handled it. Not at all. The way they hid the information was not what was agreed. They were trying to right by you, I promise.”

They tried, Ignis really believes they tried. Niflheim thwarted all their hard efforts with a half dozen words and a carefully crafted secret.

“It’s bad then?” Prompto guess, “Who my parents are? Really bad?”

Ignis hesitates. He doesn’t _want_ to do this, if only there was a way to deliver this information in an easily digestible way.

“Do you know who Verstael Besithia was?”

Prompto leaps off the couch again.

He doesn’t pace this time just stands with his back facing Ignis. His hands are shaking and Ignis watches him clench them in to fists in an attempt to hide it.

“Prompto…” Ignis beseeches.

“And my mother?” he asks roughly

“Emilie Tummelt - she was related to a long line of celebrated war heroes.”

“Back when the empire wasn’t sending kids into battle,” Prompto spits, “I can see how those genetics would have been appealing to that madman.”

Ignis can’t really think of anything insightful to say so he simply agrees, “Quite.”

“She’s dead?” Prompto asks.

“She disappeared from public view almost exactly nine months before your birthday and was discovered dead shortly after the end of the war.”

“He was a monster,” Prompto whispers, his next inhale a breathless sob, “I’m a monster.”

Ignis leaps to his own feet, “No. Prompto, _no_.”

Ignis takes him by the shoulder and Prompto _flinches_ violently and Ignis would let him go if he thought it was best. A second later Prompto is turning into his arms. He presses up against Ignis’ chest, choking a little on his sobs as Ignis runs his hand through fine, blond hair.

Whatever Prompto needs now Ignis will give it to him.

The family he was born into was soulless and unworthy of him.

But he has Ignis now. Ignis and Nyx, Gladio and Noctis and everyone else that he’s blessed since he moved to Insomnia.

Prompto has them all and Ignis will make sure he knows it.

\- - -

Spring arrives slowly, yellow and white flowers blooming late in the Citadel gardens.

A few weeks after his birthday Ignis exits the bathroom to find Nyx rushing into his uniform.

Ignis thought Nyx wasn’t working until this afternoon but apparently he was wrong. He approaches for his farewell kiss but what he gets is perfunctory at best, hasty and rushed with none of the usual morning tenderness and longing he’s grown accustomed to.

“I’ll see you tonight, love,” Ignis calls but Nyx is already out the door before he can respond.

It’s fine.

It could be anything.

 _Or_ it’s finally happened.

Nyx has finally gotten _bored_.

-

Ignis locks himself away in his office.

He’d hoped that Nyx might message him throughout the day, check in after his hasty departure that morning but _nothing_. His phone remains still and silent and Ignis finds himself so unsure of himself - for the first time in a long time - that he can’t bring himself to reach out first.

Ignis struggles through work. His performance doesn’t suffer, he’d never let it, but his emails are perhaps a little shorter and his small talk by the coffee machine even less engaging that normal.

Gladio finds him in the early afternoon, not long after Ignis has drained his second post-lunch caffeine boost.

“You okay?” Gladio asks, closing the door.

“Quite well, and you?”

Gladio rolls his eyes, “Have you checked your phone today?”

“It’s been silent all day.”

“Yeah but have you _checked it_ ,” Gladio enthuses.

Ignis squints up at his friend and he looks _excited_. Eager and happy about whatever he thinks is hiding in Ignis’ phone.

Ignis reaches for it, but he expects to find _nothing_. To his surprise he notices the little icon at once, the small little x in the top corner to indicate that all notifications are turned off.

Nervously he switches to the messaging app, breath catching at what he sees.

[Husband? 09:01] I love you.

[Husband? 09:01] What do you think? <3

Ignis can’t type out a response with his hands shaking, can’t do anything but drop his phone noisily onto his desk and tear off his glasses so he can press his palms against his eyes. The tears seep out from behind them and he tries to breath to steady himself, to take in air and _calm down_.

Ignis hears the bolt of his lock slide across then Gladio’s footsteps approach slowly. His large hand comes to rest on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly but he doesn’t say anything, just stays by Ignis’ side as he falls apart and scrambles to pull himself back together again.

Nyx isn’t _bored_.

He’s not leaving or tossing Ignis to the side.

Nyx wants to stay with Ignis _forever._ Officially, legally.

“Gladio,” Ignis manages, sitting up a little and wiping under his eyes with the back of his hand despite the fresh torrent that comes to take their place.

Gladio squeezes his shoulder, “What do you need, Iggy?”

“Go and get that handsome idiot and bring him in here for me.”

“You got it,” Gladio laughs.

Ignis never thought he’d get to meet the love of his life at all.

Let alone be fortunate enough to marry them.

Apparently he was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never covered it in the other fics either but during the security breach Iris is in a similar safe house with Jared, Talcott and a trusted contingent of guards. She arrives at the Citadel shortly after Gladio, Ignis and Noct and also spends the day and night bullying her father into properly resting.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little diversion into Ignis and Nyx's relationship. They're some of the most fun I've had in a long time and I'm sure I'll be back to write for them again - either in this universe or another one 💜

**Author's Note:**

> Rambling on Twitter at [@Ginger_El_](https://twitter.com/Ginger_El_).


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